


Bound

by Annie_Eliza, tfw_cas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Curses, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Handcuffs, Happy Sam Winchester, Humor, Implied Homoromantic/Demisexual Castiel, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Fluid Sexuality and Label Changes, Minor Allusions to Past Non-Con, Minor Castiel/Original Male Character(s), Minor Dean/Original Male Character(s), Sex Kitten Eileen Leahy, Shower Sharing, Texting, Vague Thoughts Alluding to Previous Prostitution, allusions to sex, bed sharing, brotherly moments, mention of Dean/Benny, mention of Dean/Crowley, non-graphic sex scene, spells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15343140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie_Eliza/pseuds/Annie_Eliza, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfw_cas/pseuds/tfw_cas
Summary: When Dean and Castiel get bound together by a series of complex curses connected to a pair of handcuffs, they both must learn how one can navigate their day to day life tethered to their best friend even after the handcuffs are removed. As emotions run high and hidden truths are revealed, the nature of their relationship begins to take a new shape permanently. But will these alterations pull them even closer together or drive them apart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [dmsilvisart](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com) for the beautiful art you made for our story. We love it. Link to the art masterpost is [here](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/post/176104509083/bound-art-masterpost)  
> .
> 
> Also, a big thank you to the lovely [Zanderis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanderis) for all the help and support, and for being our beta.
> 
> We would also like to thank the mods of the [Dean Cas Mini Bang](https://deancasminibang.tumblr.com). This has been a great challenge, and we really enjoyed taking part.

Dean woke up with a start, gripping at the sheets with his right hand as he sat up. By the quick and heavy heartbeat in his chest and the lingering sense of anxiety and fear still clinging to his skin, making the hair rise on his arms, he could tell that he had a nightmare. Luckily, his memory of it was fuzzy at best. A flash of Hell here, Sam seemingly dying in a cabin in the middle of the woods there.

 

Cas getting stabbed in the back by Lucifer.

 

Dean rubbed at his eyes and tried to force the images out of his brain. Cas was back now. The real Cas, not the disguised voice on the phone. Their work wasn’t finished and they still needed to find Mom and Jack - quick too if Dean wanted to pull Sam out of his funk sooner rather than later - but he had his best friend and that counted for something bigger than Dean could really bring himself to voice.

 

Dean stood up and grabbed some clean clothes from his dresser before getting into the shower. The steady pressure helped him calm down and clear his head so he let himself indulge in a longer shower than usual. The smell of fresh coffee eventually lured him into the kitchen. The clock above the oven said 6 am. There was no need for either of them to be up this early, yet there Dean was, standing in the middle of the kitchen. There sure as hell wasn’t a need for Sam to be up either. But Dean guessed it was better than Sam moping in his room until 10 am.

 

“How long have you been up?” Dean asked, pouring himself some coffee.

 

Sam peered at his laptop, “Not that long. Got up, took a run, did some research-”

 

“So, what? 3 or 4 am?” Dean interrupted.

 

Sam shrugged and redirected his gaze back to the computer screen, “Something like that.”

 

“And we didn’t get to sleep until at least midnight,” Dean continued, “Would have been later if we gave in and let Cas have his way.”

 

Sam gave him a small smile at that, “You were pretty into the Westworld binge too. Told you that you’d like it.”

 

“You have cowboys and badass prostitutes and then you have robots, the best of both worlds,” Dean said, “So what research was so pressing that you only let yourself get three hours of sleep?”

 

Sam gestured towards the computer screen, “I think I’ve found us a case in Solomon, Kansas. There’s something strange going on. There are people on social media saying that their friends and family members are acting strange, some of them say they have black eyes. The mayor up and quit without any speech or notice and some teenagers say the city council is getting replaced by newcomers. And get this, the guy who has declared himself mayor always wears a white suit. Who does that sound like to you?”

 

Dean clenched his teeth and looked over Sam’s shoulder, “Why the hell would Asmodeus want to run some town in the middle of Kansas?”

 

“You got me,” Sam answered, “It doesn’t seem to have much of anything or be close to any landmarks, supernatural or otherwise. Makeitonmyown99 says, ‘This is the final straw. I’ve been ready to leave this hellhole since the day I broke out of the womb. Fuck this rigged, dirty ass shit. I’m out of here.”

 

Dean read over the comments, then stood up straight, “Well, I don’t know if we’ll keep that person in town. But we can try to save the people who do want to stay.”

 

Sam cleared his throat as he closed his laptop, “Let’s be careful on this one and not jump in too quickly, alright? A town full of demons doing a whole lot of nothing except bureaucratic crap sounds like a whole lot of bad.”

 

Dean opened his mouth to say they had faced worse, which was true. Except when the words danced on the tip of his tongue, all he could think about was when they thought Ramiel had been a demon who liked to go fishing, only for Cas to throw up a bunch of black goo and almost die.

 

“Yeah, okay.” he said instead, walking back around the island counter as he downed the last of his coffee, “You want to get Cas or should I?”

 

* * *

 

 

The mission didn’t exactly go as planned. Not that they often go into a situation with one to begin with. Because when they do, things tend to derail so disappointingly.

 

“Well,” Dean began as he looked down at his and Cas’s linked wrists, “At least we’re not dead.”

 

“Yes,” Cas answered, squinting at the handcuffs in confusion, “Although it might have been a better alternative.”

 

Dean bit back a retort and pushed down the baffling hurt the statement conjured, “You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Asmodeus himself found us and instead of imprisoning us or killing us, he slapped some cuffs on us and poofed away with a smirk on his face. But little does he know that I have my lock pick-”

 

“It won’t work, Dean,” Cas sighed, “The handcuffs are cursed. I can feel magic radiating from it. I don’t know everything it’s doing, but it certainly can’t be fixed with a bobby pin.”

 

“Okay,” Dean said, pulling at Cas’s wrist with his own to get him to start walking, “Let’s get one thing straight: I have a professional lock pick set. Bobby pins are used in a tight squeeze but since I don’t have flowing Rapunzel hair like Samantha-”

 

“Dean!”

 

Dean felt Cas throw his free arm around his middle before being thrown into the nearest wall and out of harm’s way as part of the ceiling caved in.

 

“We need to go!” Cas yelled, linking his fingers with Dean’s as he yanked him out of the building.

 

It’s hard to run when part of your body is bound to another person’s. Luckily Cas was a fast runner and they made it fairly far - to the outskirts of town - before Dean was hit in the head with a crowbar. The last thing he heard as he started to drift into unconsciousness was Cas yelling his name. He thought he felt the sensation of being lifted into someone’s arms, but it was probably due to becoming unconscious before hitting the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

When Dean woke up, he was in his bedroom.

 

_Was it some kind of intense, messed up dream?_

 

But when Dean lifted his right hand to rub his face and another hand came with it, he realized that it definitely wasn’t.

 

“Cas?” Dean said, sitting up quickly to face his friend. Cas had his eyes closed and - other than having a bruise near his temple - he seemed to be fine otherwise.

 

“He needs to sleep.”

 

Dean turned his head and saw Sam sitting in the corner of the room at his desk, his laptop in front of him and a stack of old books off to the side, not even glancing away from what he was reading.

 

“Sam, what’s going on?” Dean asked, “What the hell happened? I saw Asmodeus. Cas and I were cuffed and we made a run for it-”

 

“You were hit in the head. Knocked out. I ran into Jody and Donna. They heard about the problem and decided to lend a hand. Good thing too, since you two left the Impala in the damn woods. Jody and I got into the back of Donna’s truck and began yelling an exorcism through megaphones-”

 

“Where the hell did you guys get megaphones?”

 

“They were Donna’s,” Sam replied, shrugging.

 

“...Right,” Dean answered, nodding slowly. It might have been the head injury, but it made some kind of sense for Donna to carry megaphones with her.

 

“That’s when we ran into you guys,” Sam continued, “Cas was bleeding from his forehead, collapsing under your weight, and seemed to be in excruciating pain. We thought we might have to take you guys to the hospital. But I didn’t know how to go about Cas. He managed to tell me he wasn’t even hit. Then he got all weird. Began freaking out and begging you to wake up. He kept screaming your name and passed out. The cuffs were glowing and started burning your skin. I managed to pick the lock and get them off.”

 

Dean let out a forced chuckle as he looked at Cas, worry bubbling in his stomach, “And Cas said I wouldn’t be able to pick the lock on them.”

 

Sam let out a sigh, “That’s the thing. Cas seemed to calm once the cuffs were off. Slept more peacefully, if you can call it that. But when I started to get you off the truck and into the Impala, Cas dragged along behind you. I couldn’t get you more than a foot away from each other. Jody and Donna had to carry him and we shoved you both into the backseat. They followed me back because they knew I couldn’t carry both of you at the same time. I think the cuffs might have been cursed. We found a few pairs of bodies with the same kind latching them together. So I think you might be safe from the curse that killed those people. But there seems to be powerful magic at play here, man. Several spells, maybe. I think I got one of them to break a few hours ago. But considering Cas’s wrist is still flopping around every time you move yours, it might take a while longer to sort this out.”

 

“Right,” Dean murmured, before taking Cas’s hand in his left to give it a pat with his right, “Wake up, buddy. If anyone’s going to know anything about this, it’s you.”

 

“I don’t think he’s going to be up for a while.”

 

Dean looked up at that, “Why do you say that?”

 

Sam picked up a book, flipped it to a page, and handed it to Dean, “Cas started yelling out some things during his, uh, episode. A lot of it was in Enochian, but he hit a few other languages too. Something he said really stuck out and it is one of the first things I researched. It was in French Creole. Turned out to be a name of a voodoo curse. The spell doesn’t bind people together literally, but it does bind them to the point where if one of the people get hurt, the other feels the impact twice as much, regardless of how far away they are from each other. That one depends on moon patterns and can only be broken when there’s a blue moon.”

 

“Great,” Dean scoffed, “And when is that going to be?”

 

“March 31st,” Sam answered, “So you have about a month where you both need to be extra careful.”

 

Dean shook his head and let out a disbelieving laugh, “Sam, our lives don’t allow us to be careful. We still need to find Mom and Jack and we have to-”

 

“I know,” Sam interrupted, taking the book back, “Believe me, _I know_. And even if we break that spell, there still seem to be others linking you two together. I don’t know how long those are going to take. You’re...You’re going to have to take the bench for a bit, Dean. At least until we figure out how to navigate around what’s going on and take some precautions.”

 

Sam stood up and began to walk to the other side of the room to open the door. Dean squinted at Sam’s retreating form and let out a huff, “So what? You’re just going to ditch me now? What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t even reach the damn books!”

 

Sam gave him a look, “I’m going to hook my TV up in here. You still got hit in the head hard enough to get knocked out for eight hours. If Cas is going to face double of the side effects, he’s going to be out for eight more. After I get the TV hooked up, I will make you something to eat and get you a water bottle. In case...well, you know.”

 

It’s times like this that remind Dean of what a good brother he has. But as he looked at Cas once more, on his bed in a deep sleep, Dean’s reminded that they’ve never had a time like this.

 

“You gonna wake up?” he asked softly.

 

He didn’t get an answer. And that was a shame, if only for the fact that Cas being asleep meant that Dean couldn’t watch more of Westworld while he was on forced bedrest. Well, he could. But he’d rather wait for Cas to wake up. Considering the circumstances, he was too worried to concentrate on a show that would need his full attention anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

When Castiel woke up on Dean’s bed, with a pounding headache and confusion prickling at him. What was he doing there… how had they even got back to the bunker? Castiel began to sit up, trying to fight past the dizziness that plagued him once he did, until a hand pushed down on his shoulder.

 

“Woah, buddy,” he heard Dean murmur from his right, “Take it easy, okay? You’ve been out for a while.”

 

Castiel looked around, his eyes only widening briefly when he saw Dean lying next to him, his back propped up by pillows, “What do you mean? I don’t sleep, Dean.”

 

Dean shrugged and tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “You do when you suffer a bad enough head injury. I guess.”

 

“I don’t get head injuries-”

 

“No, but I do,” Dean pointed out, “And I guess you do too. Or you do when you’re bound to me, at least.

 

His confusion only grew. “What do you mean I’m _bound_ to you? I don’t understand.”

 

Castiel tried to remember what had happened before he had fallen unconscious. He remembered flashes. Traveling into that town with Dean and Sam. Splitting up and eventually finding Dean alone.

 

Asmodeus. Asmodeus smiling wide as metal encircled their wrists.

 

But when Castiel looked down, there was nothing.

 

“The handcuffs are gone… look.” He lifted his hand to demonstrate their absence, and strangely, Dean’s hand lifted too.

 

“Yeah, they are. But we’re still stuck like this. A spell… curse… whatever, is preventing us from moving away from each other. Sam thinks it might be more than one. You were apparently yelling about a bunch of stuff that made him believe that,” Dean shrugged. His lack of concern at their predicament only made Castiel more annoyed.

 

Castiel tried to think back to that, but as much as he forced himself to remember, he came up empty handed.

 

“I don’t recall that,” Castiel admitted, still staring at their hands, his own resting where it had fallen on top of Dean’s.

 

As it happened, Castiel had had numerous fantasies about being this close to Dean, but none of them had involved handcuffs or an invisible force. Or being forcibly attached to him at all, in fact. This was the last thing he wanted. He felt tied down, like he wanted to flee. He couldn’t be stuck like this, not when there was research on other matters to be done, not when they needed to get Jack and Mary back.

 

Not when Dean had never even acknowledged...

 

“Is there any way we can remove this spell? This is very inconvenient.” Castiel scowled as frustration washed over him.

 

“Why, you got somewhere to be?” Dean said sarcastically. Then, seemingly thinking better of it, he softened his tone. “Sorry man, I know this isn’t ideal. But Sam is working on it. He’ll find a cure. Hell, we could have been a lot worse off. Apparently it was a close call when he found us. You were out of your head. The cuffs sound like they might have been the worst part of the deal and Sam managed to take them out of the equation.”

 

 

“We should go and help Sam. Now that I am awake, we can both help,” Castiel told him, ready to get out of bed.

 

“Ah, see… there’s more to it than us being stuck like this. Sam said that one of the things you were ranting about was some kind of voodoo curse, which causes you to feel twice as much pain as me if I get hurt… and vice versa. So we have to watch our backs and avoid dangerous situations, until…”

 

“Until what?” Castiel’s unease was growing, and Dean avoiding looking directly at him wasn’t helping.

 

“March 31st… the next blue moon-”

 

“A month? We’ve got to stay like this, in your room, for a month?” Castiel was trying very hard to stay calm, but this was too much to contemplate. How on earth was he expected to live in such close proximity to Dean and go about their relationship normally?

 

“Well, we don’t have to stay in my _room_ ,” Dean said, clearly trying to stay positive, “We can walk around the bunker. Like to the kitchen. To the library. Hell, maybe drag a couple of lawn chairs outside if a nice day comes up. Maybe if we’re discreet enough, we can go to the diner. Although I can see Sam becoming a worrywart over that…

 

Maybe Dean was just trying to prevent Castiel from losing it and smiting someone or something.

 

It wasn’t really working.

 

“How can we be expected to just do nothing?” Castiel demanded to know, “We cannot just sit here, Dean! Not when your mother is stuck in another universe! Not when Jack…”

 

Castiel felt Dean’s hand on his back and he didn’t have it in him to shrug it off, even when it wasn’t exactly comfortable when his own hand went up with the gesture.

 

“We’ll find him,” Dean told him softly, “Jack’s a strong kid. There’s not much that is going to take him down. And Mom, hell. You know she’s tough as nails. We’re gonna get through this, and find a way to break every spell and curse. Think of it this way: We can take this time to research on how to get them back. Really focus on it, as well as our situation. And when we hit a dead end, we’ve got Netflix. We can binge watch all the shows we have saved. Finish Westworld. We should do that, man. Take it easy today, with what happened and all. I just need to use the bathroom and then we can…” Dean trailed off and looked like he had been hit with something hard, as a look of horror crossed his face.

 

“What is it?” Castiel asked, concerned.

 

“...Nothing,” Dean ended up shrugging, “Just realized that I’m gonna have to hold it in for at least a month.”

 

Castiel squinted at his friend in confusion, before making the realization over what Dean was trying to say, “Dean, I am well aware of the needs humans have. I will turn around when you have to...take care of things. Masturbation is perfectly healthy and normal in both males and females-”

 

“What?! Dude!” Dean yelped, putting a little space between them on the bed, “No, Cas! Just...no. That’s NOT what I meant, Jesus Christ. Although you added something else to worry about, thanks a fucking lot-”

 

“Then what, Dean?” Castiel sighed.

 

“I…” Dean began, then let out a groan, “I’m gonna eventually have to take a shit, Cas. Taking a piss is one thing. Men pee in front of each other all the time at the urinals. But pooping? Whole other ball game.”

 

“It’s just feces,” Castiel reasoned, feeling exasperated, “I, myself, pooped when I was human. While it wasn’t my favorite experience by far, I imagine holding it in for days upon days would become quite uncomfortable, painful, and potentially dangerous. And Dean? I would rather see you poop than see you in pain.”

 

“Sweetest damn thing you ever said to me,” Dean muttered, his face flushed as he seemed to not want meet Cas’s eyes anymore, “Damn, I really need to take a shower. I haven’t taken one in almost three days…”

 

Castiel froze as Dean trailed off, and it’s _absurd_. It’s absolutely absurd to be worried about seeing Dean’s naked body. He rebuilt it himself. He knew Dean down to each individual freckle.

 

“I can wait,” Dean offered, his voice rough, “I can...I can get Sam to find my swim trunks or something before I hop in, so that I can wear them if we have issues with you standing outside of the shower.”

 

“Whatever you wish,” Cas dismissed, clearing his throat before nudging Dean to prompt him to stand up, “I would like to go find Sam before we settle in. Talk to him about what he’s found.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Dean answered, standing up and pulling Cas to his feet, “He should be downstairs in the study. Let’s go.”

 

They walked together fine across the room. If Castiel didn’t know better, he would say that they weren’t bound together by several spells and curses at all. It’s only until they both tried to get through the door frame at the same time that they tripped over each other and fell down.

 

“We’ll have to work on that,” Dean grunted, rubbing his hip with a wince, “Did you hit your hip on the door frame or did I? Damn, that hurt.”

 

“My apologies,” Castiel answered, halfway on top of Dean. Although Castiel knew that he should get off of his friend as soon as possible, he did take the opportunity to reach down to cover Dean’s hip with his hand, soothing it with a little bit of his grace.

 

 

“Cas, don’t waste your grace when you just woke up from being whammied,” Dean murmured, maneuvering his hand to hold onto Castiel’s, neither of them moving otherwise.

 

“Oh gosh, are you two alright? Or am I interrupting something?”

 

Castiel reluctantly rolled off of Dean and onto his back, only to come face to face with a blonde haired woman with an expression of genuine and sweet concern.

 

“Donna, what the hell are you still doing here?” Dean asked, only to look guilty when he probably realized how rude he came off.

 

Donna raised her eyebrows and scoffed, “Is that how I treat you when you and Sam pop in, Winchester? I sure as hell don’t think so! If you must know, Jody and I stayed because we were concerned for you boys. We were going to head out after we made sure you both were awake and alright. I had heard about Castiel, but I didn’t think my first time meeting him would be carrying him to and from. So maybe I also wanted to say hello.”

 

Donna took one step over to look down at Castiel, “I’m glad to see you conscious. I’m Donna Hanscum. It’s nice to meet ya.”

 

“...Hello, Donna,” Castiel brought himself to say, despite the peculiar situation, “It’s nice to meet you as well. Sam and Dean have told me many good things about you.”

 

“And the same goes for you!” Donna returned, then went to stand by their feet, and helped them up by pulling on their linked hands, “I was just coming up to see if you two wanted anything, but I suppose you can come down and get it yourself.”

 

“We wanted to see if Sam found anything yet,” Castiel responded, brushing himself off, “Dean has updated me on what they’ve found out so far, but hasn’t seen his brother in a few hours.”

 

“Aw, you know Sam,” Donna said, “Burying himself in research to try to fix things. He doesn’t seem much like himself. Hasn’t since he came to help me find my niece. If you ask me, he’s almost grateful for something to solve. I hope he finds something. If not for your sake, then for his. When you do go talk to him, try to get him to take a teensy break. Watch a show, take a walk. Just something to give his mind a little rest, eh? Jody and I have been trying, but he might listen to you two a little more.”

 

“Yeah, maybe. I’ve been trying to get him to talk to me for a few weeks but no dice,” Dean sighed, “How long are you ladies staying?”

 

“Probably head out in the morning,” Donna answered, “Get some shut eye before the drive, maybe bring breakfast back so we can have a meal together before getting back on the road. And of course, we’ll help you boys try to figure this out from back home, check in on you from time to time and widen our caseload since you’re out of commission for right now.”

 

Castiel felt a stab of guilt, feeling more useless by the second. Dean sent him a sharp look.

 

“Thanks for everything, Donna. I mean that,” Dean told her, his eyes still on Cas, “We’ll meet you downstairs, alright?”

 

“Okie dokie! I’ll be in the kitchen, helping Jody get dinner on the table. See you there.”

 

Castiel watched Donna walk away before making a turn and disappearing from the hall. Dean’s eyes were still on him and he’s not sure why. All he could think of doing was to continue walking. But when he tried, Dean wouldn’t move.

 

“What, Dean?” Castiel asked irritably.

 

“Why do you feel guilty that they’re helping?” Dean asked, studying him in confusion, “It’s a good thing, Cas.”

 

Castiel stared at him right back, feeling his stomach turn into a pit, “What makes you think I feel guilty?”

 

Dean opened his mouth, then stopped himself from answering, only to backtrack and start again, “Dude, I don’t even know. I just know. I...I _felt_ it.”

 

Great. This was just wonderful.

 

“Let’s go find your brother,” Castiel muttered, forcibly dragging Dean down the hall. Whether it was Dean’s confusion and fear he was feeling or his own, he didn’t know.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had put this off long enough. He knew that he was stinking up the place and he couldn’t avoid it any longer. Washing in the sink and copious amounts of deodorant wasn’t going to cut it any longer; he was going to have to shower. In front of Cas. Man, he felt awkward just thinking about it, but Sam was practically running in the opposite direction everytime he came near. Cas, of course, had no idea why and Dean wasn’t about to tell him. That would lead to explanations Dean didn’t want to give.

 

He grabbed his pair of swim trunks from the drawer - ignoring the questioning eyebrow from Cas - and said, “I need to hit the shower.”

 

“Yes, Dean. I think you probably should.”

 

Okay… maybe Cas _had_ noticed.

 

They walked together down the hallway towards the bathroom, neither of them saying anything along the way. When Dean began to undress, Cas averted his eyes. This somehow made the whole thing even more awkward. When he was down to nothing but his boxers he quickly removed them and pulled on the trunks.

 

At first, Dean really thought he could do this. He turned on the water before he got in, tested the temperature so there would be no issues, and even managed to close the shower door, despite the invisible force. A part of him hoped, for a split second, that he would be able to have some room to move. But considering his hand was still firmly stuck near the shower door, he figured that wasn’t a kind consideration they were going to be given. He guessed he should be grateful enough that clothes could pass through the link so that he could get them on and off. He didn’t want to be stuck wearing the same outfit. That was more of a Cas thing. He didn’t want to steal his friend’s thunder.

 

He wondered if he could get Cas to take some of his clothes, at least something to settle in for during the night. Sleeping next to someone wearing a full suit and trench coat would probably eventually give Dean secondhand discomfort.

 

Figuring that it was a conversation that could be had later, Dean focused on the task at hand. His loofa that Sam doesn’t know Dean has was hanging from the showerhead caddy right next to his body wash. With a longing look, Dean understood that he wouldn’t be able to use either of them today. But he figured he could reach to the shelf built into the shower wall to reach his shampoo - if not with his hand, then with his foot-

 

“Dean, are you alright?”

 

Dean glared at the shampoo from the ground, water spraying against his legs as he let out a groan.

 

“What the hell were the Men of Letters thinking when they built showers this big?!” he fumed, before giving in and wiggling his dangling hand to beckon Cas.

 

Cas seemed to hesitate and Dean suddenly felt himself flush with embarrassment at the situation, you know, considering he was practically naked on the floor of the shower and all. But if Cas felt put on the spot by the scenario, then he didn’t show it. He looked down at Dean’s face - if Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say his friend was mildly amused - before letting out a sigh, putting a hand on Dean’s back, and helping him stand.

 

Dean stood there awkwardly and looked around the shower for a moment, then turned to Cas, “Um… I’m sorry Cas, I think you’re gonna get a little wet. I can’t see any other way-”

 

“It’s fine, Dean. We’ll do what we need to make this work.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said hesitantly, stepping to the side. And then? Cas just stepped in _fully clothed_.

 

“Woah, dude!” Dean said, stopping him from entering the shower any further, “You can’t just get in with all your clothes on. Like, you still have your shoes on, man. Come on.”

 

“I can dry my clothes with my grace,” Cas pointed out, looking at Dean like he’s a bit slow.

 

“Yeah, but it’s _weird_. And unnecessary,” Dean started to list off, “Besides Cas, I just...okay, as strange as it is showering with you, showering with anyone who has all of their clothes on while I’m practically butt naked is even stranger.”

 

“My apologies,” Cas offered, while still standing there, “I guess I assumed it would make you more uncomfortable if I removed my clothing.”

 

“Well, it doesn’t,” Dean told him, his face becoming hot, “It’s just...shit, I don’t know how to explain this. I don’t like being the only one exposed like this while you just stand there. It’s like you have something over me.”

 

Cas studied him for a moment, looking concerned, “You feel like we would be on equal footing if I were to remove my clothes. That would make you feel less vulnerable.”

 

Dean started to feel even more uncomfortable of where the subject was going and began to backtrack, “Just forget I said anything, okay? It’s not that big of a deal-”

 

“Hang on. The sensation of wet clothes is not that pleasant. I think your suggestion might be a good one.”

 

Dean’s eyes went wide as Cas began to remove his clothes, right then and there, unashamed and not modest at all. Cas must have felt his eyes on him, he had to have, because as soon as he looked at Dean questioningly, Dean turned his head away with a gulp.

 

“Well, there’s that,” Cas said, standing there almost bored, yet seemed hesitant to meet Dean’s eyes, “Are you more comfortable to resume?”

 

“Uh…” Dean trailed off with a nervous chuckle, “I don’t think _comfortable_ is the right word for it.”

 

Cas was clearly done with this conversation. He stepped back into the shower without another word, and waited for Dean to resume washing.

 

For a few moments, Dean was frozen to the spot, not knowing where to look. But he quickly decided that the faster this was over the better, and grabbed the shampoo. As he massaged it into his scalp, he found the presence beside him of a silent, naked Cas becoming oppressive. He felt the need to say something… anything.

 

“Hey Cas, do you want some shampoo? Body wash?”

 

“No. Thank you.” Cas responded. “I find washing unnecessary.”

 

This was ridiculous. _Pull yourself together, Winchester_. Dean decided that his attempt to engage Cas in conversation had made things even more awkward, somehow. He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair then used the body wash. Scrubbing his genitals with an impatient, naked angel standing next to him was a strange experience; one he didn’t want to repeat too often, but he knew he would have to. Still, he figured that the more thoroughly he washed himself, the longer he might be able to leave it until the next shower. At least he had the swim trunks to cover himself. Scrubbing in such a long and detailed manner without them might make this situation _embarrassing_.

 

When all of the shampoo and body wash was rinsed away, Dean turned the shower off and stepped out. All without looking at Cas. He didn’t need that distraction. He grabbed his towel and began to dry himself off, thinking that he would wrap it around his waist and remove the trunks when everything else was dry.

 

“Would you like me to dry your back?” Cas’s voice broke through the silence, causing Dean to almost jump out of his skin.

 

“What? Er… no thanks, Cas. I’ve been managing to dry myself off for a few years now.” Dean said, hoping that Cas didn’t notice the red flush that spread over his face at the question.

 

Dean hurriedly finished getting himself dry, then used the towel to cover his modesty and discreetly take off the trunks. As they walked back to his room, Dean realised that he didn’t know if Cas had put his clothes back on, or if he was still naked. He was refusing to look in his direction, but a flash of fabric out of the corner of his eye told him that, yes, Cas was dressed again, and he breathed a sigh of relief. _Just need to get dressed and everything will be fine again_.

 

* * *

 

 

After a disastrous attempt to cook, and nearly setting the kitchen on fire because Cas was always in the way, Dean accepted that it would be best to hand those particular reins over to Sam. And while it killed him to give over his kitchen to his brother, he knew he had to learn when to admit he needed help - even if that meant eating rabbit food. He could at least wash the dishes though, couldn’t he?

 

Cas stood and watched as Dean filled the sink with water, then piled in the dishes. Dean tried not to get irritated as Cas’ closeness made him feel clumsy, but it was becoming more and more annoying.

 

“Don’t just stand there,” Dean said impatiently, “You might as well help. Here.” He thrust the dish rag into Cas’ hands, then turned away, rolling his eyes.

 

“You know that you only have to ask if you need my help, Dean.” Cas said, sounding just as annoyed with Dean as Dean was with him.

 

With such limited allowance of movement, they kept knocking elbows, and by the time they had finished Dean was feeling extremely stressed. He needed to talk to Sam, but he couldn’t discuss Cas with Cas right there, could he? He pulled out his phone and started typing, making sure that Cas couldn’t see the screen.

 

  
**Dean: Dude, Cas is driving me crazy. I mean, I know we wanted him to stay in the bunker, but he’s not saying anything, and he keeps getting in my way. :(**

 

**Sam: You should try talking to each other. You know, like adults.**

 

**Dean: Are you sure you can’t find anything in the research? There’s gotta be something.**

 

**Sam: Talk. To. Him.**

**Dean: Yeah yeah. Shut up, bitch.**

 

Dean muttered something unintelligible under his breath, then pocketed his phone with a huff. He could talk to Cas, couldn’t he? Sure. “Hey Cas. How you doing?”

 

“I am finding this situation quite overwhelming. Knowing I am stuck is… well, I do not like it,” Cas said, with a frown.

 

Cas wanted to leave - of course he did. No wonder he was being so quiet. Being forced to stay here with Dean was the worst possible thing that could happen to Cas, wasn’t it?

 

Dean’s heart sank at this realization and he nodded sadly.

 

_Thanks a lot, Sammy. That talk helped so much._

 

* * *

 

 

Six days into their predicament, when Dean had woken up with an erection he couldn’t think his way out of, all Castiel had done was give Dean a nod, turn his head to his right, and waited for his friend to do what needed to be done. Dean obviously felt awkward about it. Even though Castiel wasn’t looking, he could feel the hesitation rolling off of Dean before the movements of shifting and Dean’s pants sliding down were felt. It may have been selfish, but Castiel almost hoped the awkwardness Dean felt in that moment would be enough to make his penis become flaccid. But even so, Castiel meant what he said. He respected that Dean had to tend to his physical needs during this time, even if they had to do things they would normally not do around each other.

 

It just didn’t help his own sense of self when Dean’s breathing became erratic. Hearing the slight, breathy moans made it so Castiel felt like he could barely breathe himself. Pressing a fist against his mouth, he felt a fire hot in his lower abdomen, calling out with need and lust. This was horrible. The fact that he was _getting off_ on Dean’s private moment was completely inappropriate. If Dean knew, if he figured it out, would he be able to look Castiel in the eye again? Would he-

 

Dean’s groan might have been loud when he came, but Castiel’s was louder - almost a shout - as he felt his own ejaculate shoot out, plentiful and with such immense force. His back arched upwards off the bed before he fell back onto it in a heap.

 

Through the haze, he could feel Dean shift on the bed and Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for whatever tone a conversation transpiring from something like this could take on. Opening one eye, Castiel quickly glanced at Dean, who had turned on his side to face him and was propping his head up with his hand.

 

“Did you…” Dean started to ask but trailed off. Castiel felt a heat rise to his cheeks and he cleared his throat.

 

“My apologies,” Castiel muttered, wincing at the wet sensation in his underwear upon sitting up, “It won’t happen again.”

 

“Uh,” Dean started, laughing nervously as he reached for the tissues to clean off his hand, handing Cas a few in the process, “I mean, it might happen again. Considering our bodies and emotions are connected and all. Hey, did you come twice as hard as I did? Lucky bastard.”

 

Castiel squinted at him in confusion, then tossed the tissues to the side and opted for his usual methods of maintaining cleanliness, “I thought you would be upset with me. I thought...I don’t know what I thought.”

 

“Figure you can’t help it, given our situation and all. Next time, maybe you can not come in your pants. We can just lie back and enjoy ourselves. You could uh...maybe do it too. If you wanted. I guess I would get something out of it if you did. Or if you didn’t. Whatever. But still, we wouldn’t have to make a big deal out of it. Maybe put some earbuds in and listen to music, feign some privacy,” Dean shrugged, letting out an embarrassed chuckle before looking away.

 

Castiel nodded, feeling a little more relieved and comfortable over what just occurred, despite Dean’s nervous rambling, “Like how I listened to the mixtape you gave me while you had a bowel movement yesterday.”

 

And if Dean hadn’t been blushing over the masturbation issue? He certainly was now.

 

“Nope. Nuh-uh,” Dean said, sitting up to climb over Cas, forcing Cas to have no choice but to follow him, “Not going there. Not having that conversation. I don’t poop, Cas. It never happened.”

 

After a while, Castiel had hoped that things would simmer down between the two of them. But no more than three hours later, he exploded at Dean for the smallest, stupidest reason and they fought over what side of the table to sit on, of all possible things to fight over. Dean didn’t say another word to him for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time over a week had gone by, Castiel was feeling more restricted than ever, and to make matters worse, Dean was barely talking to him, though Castiel didn’t know why. He had tried to tell Dean how trapped he felt, but he didn’t do a very good job of it, and now they were both miserable.

 

Dean had tried to drive them somewhere different a couple of days ago, but they had only got half a mile down the road before he abandoned that plan and turned back around. Sam appeared to be avoiding them altogether, although Dean kept on texting him, making sure that Castiel couldn’t see what the texts said.

 

After a particularly trying day - one where he and Dean had sniped at each other, tripped over each other, and generally did not enjoy the extended quality time together - Dean dragged them to the kitchen, and looked into the fridge.

 

“I need a drink, right now.” Dean rummaged around, and came out with a few bottles in his hands. “Yes! I’m gonna get wasted.”

 

Castiel was not about to argue with Dean or deny him something he enjoyed so much. It might do his friend some good to let loose a little. Once they were seated at the table, Dean held a bottle out towards him, but Castiel declined; opting instead to read while Dean drank his beers.

 

The book was one about spells that Sam had left on the table, which was interesting, but not much help for their predicament. Castiel read, trying to ignore the sight of Dean polishing off one beer after another, before starting on a bottle of whiskey he had also found. Strangely, after a while, he found that his eyesight was starting to cloud over and his head felt fuzzy.

 

“Aww, the beer’ssss all gone,” Dean slurred from beside him. “Gonna get some more whiskey.”

 

Dean heaved himself to his feet, swaying slightly, then seeming to remember himself, turned to Cas. “Sorry buddy. You’re gonna hafta come with me.”

 

Castiel looked up at Dean and tried to reply, but his tongue felt strange, and he couldn’t focus on the hunter, seeing as there was now two of him. Castiel didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all.

 

Dean reached his hand out and pulled Castiel to his feet, but Castiel was hit by a sudden wave of dizziness. “Dean… I-I think ‘m going to vomt… vom-it!”

 

Castiel lurched forward, hitting his head on the table, then lying down on it. He closed his eyes, hoping that the dizziness would stop, but it didn’t. “Sry Deeean, I have t’stay here. You go on w’out me. You and your precious f-freckles. Each and everrry sing’ one of ‘em ‘nique in itsss own ‘ay.

 

 

“Cas? Casssssss, c’mon man. Get up.” Dean yanked Castiel up again, and this time he did vomit. Right on Dean’s shoulder and down his arm.

 

“What th’fuck? What’s wrong with you, Cas?” Dean’s expression was all concern, as he sat Cas down on the table as gently as he could manage.

 

“SAM!!!! Sammy!” Dean shouted, causing Castiel’s head to throb painfully.

 

“Dean, pleasssssse. Don’t-” Castiel said, holding his head in his hands.

 

Dean seemed to understand, so instead he pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text. “Don’t worry, Cas, Sam will help. He’ll know whatta do.” He sat down heavily next to Castiel, and leaned against him. One of them was holding the other up, but Castiel wasn’t sure which one it was.

 

Sam came running into the room a few moments later, stopping in front of them. “Guys, what’s up?” What happened to your arm, Dean?” He made a disgusted face when he saw the state his brother was in.

 

“‘M sor-hic-sorry.” Castiel’s eyes widened, at the strange sensation he was experiencing. “I-hic-I vomited on-hic-Dean.”

 

Dean started to giggle stupidly at Castiel. “Dude, you’ve got the hiccups. That’s h-hic-larious.”

 

Sam shook his head and glared at them both. “I can see that you’re both drunk. What the hell, man, are you serious? You called me for this?”

 

“Nah, Sammy. You’re wrong.” Dean clapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder, in a consoling manner. “Cas dint drink-hic-anything.”

 

“Oh! You… damn.” Sam was shouting, which didn’t help the condition of Castiel’s head at all.

 

“Spit it out, Sam. I-hic-I dunno what you’re talkinabout.” Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, as Castiel almost fell off the table.

 

“You remember when I told you that if one of you gets injured the other feels it twice as much? Well…” Sam gestured between them in an effort to make them understand.

 

“Cas is drunk be-hic-caus’ve me?” Dean finally seemed to have caught on to what Sam was getting at.

 

“Yes. Man… you’re going to have to lay off the booze until this is over. Unless you want to be carrying Cas around, dead drunk.”

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake-hic.” Dean threw himself backwards on the table in frustration, and the movement flung Castiel backwards too. He landed slightly on top of Dean, who made a fairly decent pillow. Castiel decided that he would stay there until he felt better, so he was quite annoyed when he felt himself being lifted up and carried out of the room.

 

Castiel discovered that struggling wasn’t much use, so he allowed Sam - he was pretty sure it was Sam - to bring him down the hallway back to Dean’s room. He found himself lying down on the bed, watching the ceiling spin around and around. He was vaguely aware of Dean next to him, hiccuping occasionally.

 

Sam loomed over him, expression grim, “Try not to throw up again. I’ll be back with a bucket. Okay, Cas?”

 

“Thank you, Sam. You-hic-re a good friend,” Castiel said as sincerely as he could.

 

“Yeah, so are you,” Sam smiled down at Cas fondly.

 

Castiel grabbed hold of Sam’s hand to stop him leaving and whispered loudly “Dean is a good friend too. We have a pro-hic-found bond. But I do not like feeling chained up, it’s very re-restricting. I th-hic-ink we will be better friends again when we are free.”

 

Sam stood still for a minute, the expression on his face indecipherable, then scooted off to get the bucket. When he returned, he also had some glasses of water, which he insisted Castiel and Dean took sips of regularly. The last thing Castiel heard before passing out was Dean saying “Hey, that was fun, wasn’t it, Cas?”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean awoke with his head full of cotton wool, vomit on his arm and a desperate need to pee. It had obviously been a good night. As he sat up, and Cas didn’t move, things started to come back to him. Dean getting wasted, Cas getting double-wasted, vomiting, Cas getting the damn hiccups, Sam carrying Cas back to Dean’s room… Cas calling Dean’s freckles precious and saying that he and Dean have a profound bond-. _Oh_. Maybe Cas was disgruntled because he couldn’t leave even if he wanted to, not because he was sick of Dean.

 

Maybe Sam’s idea of talking wasn’t so lame after all.

 

Unable to rouse Cas, Dean took out his phone and sent a text.

 

**Dean: Help. Need a piss, Cas asleep.**

 

**Sam: Be there in a minute. How you feeling?**

 

**Dean: Like crap, but I bet Cas feels worse.**

 

Sam didn’t text back, but he appeared a minute later with another glass of water in his hand and some pills.

 

“I hope you’re not planning on a repeat performance of last night,” Sam said as he handed over the pills.

 

“Nah, I don’t wanna make Cas sick again. He can’t handle his drink.” Dean stared down at his friend. “And besides, I can’t even go to the bathroom.”

 

“You’re gonna have to use this bucket until he wakes up,” Sam said, passing the bucket to Dean. “I don’t think carrying him to the bathroom so you can take a piss is an option.”

 

This wasn’t ideal, but what could he do? Looking up at his brother, who was still there, watching him, Dean said, “Do you mind? A little privacy?”

 

“Oh… god, yeah. Sorry.” Sam backed out of the room with a “I’ll come back when you’re done.”

 

Dean hoped that Cas wouldn’t wake up while he was pissing into a bucket, so he relieved himself as quickly as he could then lay back down. Might as well go back to sleep; after all, what else was there to do… lie there staring at Cas like some kind of creep?

 

Waking again sometime later, Dean saw that Sam had taken the bucket away, and refreshed the glasses of water. When he turned over he was pleased to see that Cas was finally awake. “Morning sunshine.”

 

“Dean, I-” Cas started, then let out a groan and put a hand to his head.

 

“It’s okay… don’t try to move.” Dean patted Cas on the shoulder with a grimace. “I’m really sorry, man. I didn’t think that it would affect you too.”

 

“Thank you. I will be fine.” Cas said with a pained smile. He didn’t try moving, however, and Dean had to stop himself from laughing.

 

No. That would be wrong.

 

“We don’t have to get up until you’re feeling better. No rush.” Dean let out a sigh and sank back into his pillow. Despite the hangover, and Cas looking rougher than Dean had ever seen him, he felt that they were in a better place than they had been previously.

 

A couple of hours later, Cas felt well enough for them to go to the kitchen to get some coffee, and the atmosphere between him and Dean felt different. They were becoming more cooperative, more in sync with each other.

 

After a few cups of coffee and some water, as well as eating what felt like his weight in bacon, Dean was feeling more relaxed than he had since this all started. The day had turned into night, and he and Cas had done nothing, but they were sitting comfortably side by side for the first time.

 

“I am sorry, Dean. I have been terse and irritable,” Cas said suddenly, breaking the silence.

 

Dean tried to wave his apology away, but Cas carried on.

 

“Naomi brainwashed me into killing… well, killing too many people; I was trapped inside Lucifer with no control over my vessel, and Asmodeus locked me up and fooled you into believing he was me. I am sick and tired of being controlled… restricted, again and again, and putting you in danger. But none of this is your fault, and I should have told you sooner how it was making me feel.”

 

“I get it. Our lives yank us around from one shitty situation to the next. But you...you’ve had a rough ride, haven’t you?” Dean said. The way Cas hesitated when he mentioned Naomi made Dean believe that there was something Cas hadn’t told him, but he figured that if it was important Cas would tell him in time.

 

Cas nodded his head sadly, and leaned his chin on his hands.

 

“You know what, you deserve something good after all the crap you’ve been through. We’re gonna finish Westworld, then you’re gonna choose the next show we watch.” Dean gave Cas his biggest smile as they made their way back to his room. They were going to be okay, he was certain of it.

 

* * *

 

 

To his surprise, Castiel found he had almost become accustomed to being attached to Dean. After two weeks, it felt almost normal for them to just follow when the other one wanted to go somewhere. He wouldn’t exactly say that it was enjoyable, but they had somehow found a way to move around each other. At first, the feeling of having no freedom had been terrible, and Castiel couldn’t understand why Dean wasn’t as angry about it as he was. But now… now Dean was going to the bathroom with Castiel right by the door, and no longer seemed to be so hung up over showering together.

 

Strangely, Dean didn’t seem hung up on masturbating together either. When they both took part, whether it be in the shower or in bed, the orgasms were almost debilitating in their intensity. Leaving both of them gasping for breath minutes after. After the first few awkward sessions, it had almost become a ritual between them and now they both felt comfortable enough to give suggestions and requests on how to touch themselves in order to find ways to get the most pleasure out of their situation. It was surprisingly becoming a frequent activity for them. Castiel thought it might be possible the source of relief was helping things not be so tense between them.

 

But other than that development, things were mostly the same. Sam, Jody and Donna were all doing what they could to try to find a solution, but so far they had come up with nothing. Castiel and Dean had helped a little, but they had been spending a great deal of their time watching a new series on Netflix. Today though, Dean had decided that he would have another go at cooking, and he wanted to try to teach Castiel while he was at it.

 

“Pie,” Dean announced, a grin forming on his face, “I’m gonna show you how to make pie.”

 

Castiel knew how important pie was to his friend; the happiness that was written on his face was proof enough of that. Dean insisted on making the entire thing from scratch - no pre-made pastry or pie filling - and he had given Sam a very detailed shopping list.

 

Once Sam had returned with the ingredients, Dean got to work. He couldn’t remember the term for second-in-command in the kitchen, so he called Castiel ‘first mate’, and told him that would do just fine.

 

“Okay, first mate, first thing you have to do is remove your coat. You can’t cook wearing that,” Dean said, helping Castiel out of the coat, then his suit jacket. “And this too. Now roll up your sleeves and wash your hands. Great, now we can start. I’m starting you off with an American classic - apple pie. Now the funny thing about apple pie is...”

 

Dean rambled on and Castiel couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s enthusiasm. Even if Castiel hadn’t wanted to learn to make pie, his friend’s eagerness was almost inexplicably contagious.

 

Peeling and chopping the apples was quite an easy task, but Castiel discovered that making pastry dough was messy. They had to mix the ingredients using their hands, then roll it out with a rolling pin - a process which used a frankly ridiculous amount of flour. By the time the pie was ready to go in the oven, Castiel had white powder on his shirt, tie, pants, shoes… and from Dean’s reaction, he had it on his face and in his hair too. Dean was clearly trying not to laugh at him, and doing a pretty poor job of it too.

 

“Do I have something on my face, Dean?” Castiel grumbled.

 

“Yeah, a little bit.” Dean reached up and wiped at Castiel’s face, then his shirt and tie. He shook his head with a grin. “Nah, that just made it worse.”

 

“I can clean myself with my grace,” Castiel said, unsure why Dean was trying to clean him anyway.

 

“Yeah okay, you could do that. Or… you could change your clothes for once - wear something different.”

 

“Something different?”

 

“Yeah, you know, like a t-shirt and pajama pants. Aren’t you sick of wearing the same things all the time?”

 

“I have never really thought about it.” Castiel looked down at himself, taking in the flour-covered clothes he was so used to. Maybe a change wasn’t such a bad idea. “Yes, I think I would like that.”

 

Dean’s face lit up, giving Castiel the feeling that he had thought a lot about this. “C’mon then. Bathroom first, so you can get the flour off your face and out of your hair, then we’ll get you fixed up with a new wardrobe.”

 

Half an hour later, Castiel was clean and redressed in a long-sleeved t-shirt, some soft pajama pants, and a pair of thick socks. He had to admit that this was more comfortable than what he was used to wearing.

 

“Thank you Dean, I think I like this new outfit.”

 

“You’re welcome, man. But you don’t have to wear these everyday either, you know? You could put on something different tomorrow, then another outfit the day after.”

 

This was the first time since he had been human that Castiel wore something different, but he wasn’t unhappy about it as he had been before. When he was human he had had no choice, but now he did.

 

They went back into the kitchen, then sat down to eat the pie they had made together. It felt… nice.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean woke up to the sound of shouting coming from the hallway. Sam was the one doing the shouting, but Dean couldn’t make out who it was being directed at.

 

“I’ll fucking kill you! I don’t know how you’re alive or why you’re here, but after what you did? EVERYTHING that you did. I’ll make you pay, I swear, you son of a bitch!”

 

He shook Castiel awake and they quickly got out of bed to run towards the noise, only to stop in their tracks when they saw who was the reason for the commotion.

 

“Ketch? What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean growled, ready to lunge at the man right before a hand landed on his shoulder.

 

“You need to be careful, Dean,” Cas warned him, pulling him back, “One of us getting injured won’t fare well for either of us.”

 

“Ah, Dean. There you are… and your pet angel. How sweet.” The way Ketch was looking at Cas made Dean want to do him some serious harm. Who the fuck did he think he was, coming in here like he hadn’t been the cause of so much of the shit they had endured?

 

“Did you want something before we kick your ass? Or shall we just get down to it?” Dean asked, his posture rigid.

 

“As much as I would like to ‘get down to it’, that is not why I am here. I believe that we may be able to help each other.”

 

“Help… you? After what you’ve done? We haven’t lost our minds.” Sam grabbed hold of Ketch by the throat and motioned to Cas to knock the bastard out.

 

“Wait… wait. I didn’t actually kill you, did I? I think we all need to calm down. No? Boys?”

 

Sam slammed Ketch roughly into the wall, and snarled, giving Dean an immense feeling of pride towards his brother. “Are you serious? What about the other hunters you killed? What about _Eileen_?”

 

Dean could hear the anguish in Sam’s voice, and he never wanted to punch Ketch more than he did in that moment.

 

“Ms. Leahy? Really? I can-” Ketch was stopped from saying anything else by Sam’s hand tightening around his throat.

 

“You son of a bitch,” Dean shouted. “She didn’t deserve what you did.”

 

Ketch managed to push Sam away, then held his hands out in a cautious gesture before directing his gaze towards them,

 

“Give me a few hours to change your minds, then I hope you will reconsider my offer of help.”

 

“And how exactly do you think you’re gonna change our minds?” Dean asked.

 

Ketch smiled, then threw something on the ground which created a thick cloud of black smoke. By the time it had cleared he was gone.

 

“Really?” Dean shouted pointlessly. “Well, that was a waste of time!”

 

Sam sighed sadly, then walked away, leaving Dean and Cas wondering what just happened. After Dean had visited the bathroom, he and Cas went to the kitchen where they found Sam nursing a cup of herbal tea.

 

“Hey Sammy, sorry we didn’t get the British douche. Again.” Dean squeezed his brother’s shoulder, then grabbed two cups of coffee and sat down, handing one of them to Cas.

 

“How does he keep outsmarting us? It’s infuriating,” Sam said. And honestly, there was nothing encouraging that Dean could say to ease his brother’s mind. Sam was right. Even if Dean did know just what to say, what were the chances it would help Sam’s mood in the long run. He’s been going downhill since Eileen died and witnessing what Ketch did to Mom, the final nail in the coffin had obviously been losing Mom and Jack to another whole damn universe. They could kill Ketch -and yeah, Dean definitely still planned to- but other than making sure Ketch couldn’t hurt anyone else again, nothing else would be changed by it. No one he hurt would be brought back.

 

Seeing the dullness in his brother’s eyes made Dean’s heart ache over how unfair that was.

 

“Dean,” Cas murmured, glancing over at him, “What’s wrong?”

 

Dean blinked, only to look down at where Cas had suddenly intertwined their fingers. Even though there was a part of him that wanted to pull away, with Sam just being across the room and all, he didn’t. Maybe he needed the touch - the closeness - despite not having a moment to himself nowadays. Maybe seeing Sam’s loneliness front and center put things in perspective enough to make him feel grateful he had gotten Cas back. And wasn’t that just a shitty thought to have when his brother was still mourning the girl he had just started getting close with?

 

About four hours later, they heard the rumbling of a car outside, near the entrance to the bunker. Dean followed suit when Sam grabbed his gun and made his way up the stairs, Cas right behind them. When they got outside, Ketch was leaning against the trunk, rubbing his swollen and broken nose with a wince.

 

“Dude, did you get a punch in before I found you guys?” Dean asked, letting himself smirk a little, “Nice.”

 

Ketch cleared his throat and sneered, “That would be a little less embarrassing, wouldn’t it? Considering your brother’s size and strength, it would be almost understandable. But considering the reason why I imprisoned her, I suppose I should have expected the attack. Maybe I should have drugged her before we left and not after. Would have been less messy. I understand why she’s upset with me, but I could have let her starve to death after I went underground. Left her to waste away. But no. I took her with me, kept her in a somewhat acceptable cell, gave her books for research, a toothbrush, clean water a few times a week, a bucket. Fed her. Well, when I could-”

 

“Who the hell are you talking about?” Sam interrupted harshly.

 

Ketch let out a sigh and gestured towards the trunk in a mockingly grand fashion, then popped it open, “Gentlemen, Eileen Lea-”

 

Before any of them could register what had actually come out of Ketch’s mouth, a small but determined and stealthy woman jumped out of the trunk and onto Ketch, wrapping her legs around him as she dug her thumbs into the man’s eyes, causing him to cry out. As soon as Ketch stumbled down onto the ground, Eileen Leahy wrapped her right hand around his throat and slammed his head into the dirt, before throwing her punches mercilessly and frantically. To his brother’s credit, Sam snapped out of it first, running over to Eileen to pick her up off of Ketch. Eileen flailed in Sam’s arms, digging her fingernails into his wrists as she yelled out in a fearful rage.

 

“Eileen!” Sam tried to say calmly, his voice strained, “It’s me. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me. It’s Sam. I promise you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

It wasn’t until after his brother spoke that he seemed to realize that she couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

 

“Shit,” Sam muttered, “Dean, Cas. Stand behind me. Be ready to get a hold of her. I’m going to try to come around so she can see my face. She’s freaking out.”

 

Not wanting to make her feel restrained, Dean and Cas stood beside Eileen and put what Dean hoped were comforting hands on her shoulders. Sam slipped out of the hold and came around to face Eileen, waiting for her to make eye contact.

 

“It’s me, Eileen,” Sam said, his voice a little choked, then began to sign as he spoke, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t know. I thought you were dead up until you jumped out of that trunk. Let us bring you inside. Let me take care of you.”

 

Dean could feel it as the fight left Eileen’s body, her shoulders starting to sag as she released a huge breath. Dean nodded at Cas as they silently agreed to let her go.

 

“Sam?” she whispered, only getting to take two steps forward before passing out.

 

Sam ran over to her quickly to catch her, softly brushing the hair from her face before lifting her up and carrying her towards the bunker, “Take care of him. Put another bullet in his head for all I care. I’m getting her inside and in an actual bed.”

 

Dean waited until the bunker door was closed to pay any mind to Ketch, who was still groaning on the ground with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. Dean weighed his options, before shrugging and cocking his gun.

 

“Wait!” Ketch yelled out, lifting a hand up in self-defense, “I...I apologize. It’s not like I _wanted_ to keep her in such poor conditions. The men of letters kept her in better conditions when we sent that shifter out but I don’t exactly have their resources anymore, do I? I was on the run and she would have starved to death or been killed if I hadn’t taken her-”

 

“You shouldn’t have had her in the first place!” Dean snapped, uncocking his gun before not being able to resist hitting Ketch over the head with it.

 

“I believe that was called for,” Cas said, staring at Ketch’s unconscious form.

 

“I wanna kill him,” Dean muttered, “After what he did to my mom, me, Sam, Eileen. He doesn’t deserve to live.”

 

“He’s smart. He may become of value when it comes to our situation,” Castiel mentioned hesitantly.

 

Dean let out a sigh, “Yeah. But I’d honestly rather stay stuck to you if it means having him six feet under.”

 

The side of Cas’s mouth quirked upward at that as he patted Dean on his shoulder, “Come on. Let’s figure out a way to get him inside without disturbing Sam and Eileen. We’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone.

 

* * *

 

 

Eileen’s recovery was faster than any of them had been anticipating. She had surprisingly been relatively accepting in regards to Ketch being at the bunker due to Dean’s and Cas’s situation. Sam could barely take his eyes off of her. Maybe it was because he was worried Ketch might escape and harm her (although, with the way Eileen had leaped out of that trunk and attacked him, Castiel would be more worried about her sneaking off and slitting Ketch’s throat). But when it came down to it, he was pretty sure Sam was falling in love. Within a week of her return, Sam seemed to have gained a new lease on life. He was smiling more than Castiel had ever seen, and that made him very happy. He thought of Sam as family, and by the looks of things, Eileen was becoming part of that family too. Castiel watched the way they gazed at each other, and it gave him a warm feeling inside.

 

Jody and Donna had come back to the bunker for a day to check on how things were going,  
and Jody in particular was amazed to find Eileen alive and well. Despite the fact that Eileen had been incarcerated for almost a year, she was surprisingly healthy. It seemed that, despite the poor conditions she had been in, she had been using the texts Ketch had brought her to research, and work on translating.

 

Arthur Ketch, despite his disgruntled state due to being in a heavily warded and locked room, was proving to be more useful than Castiel had expected; identifying some of the spells that were binding him and Dean together, and helping all of them to locate the necessary ingredients for the counter-spells. Dean still looked like he might punch Ketch at any moment, especially when he looked at Castiel in that way that made his skin crawl, or called him ‘angel’.

 

As well as researching the binding spells, they were also still trying to find a way to get Mary and Jack back from the AU. Castiel knew though, that if they did find a way, he and Dean would not be able to go anywhere near the rift. At least, not while they were still bound, anyway. It was much too dangerous.

 

As the day wore on, Jody and Donna said their goodbyes and left, Ketch slithered off to wherever snakes go at night, and Sam and Eileen disappeared in the direction of Sam’s room. Dean yawned, and turned to Castiel.

 

“Might as well call it a night. I can’t read anymore of this.”

 

Castiel had to agree; he wasn’t getting very far with the book he was reading either. They went back to Dean’s room, and sat down on the bed.

 

“You wanna watch some Netflix?” Dean asked.

 

It wasn’t too late - not quite midnight - but Castiel didn’t feel much like watching anything. “No thank you, Dean. Not tonight.”

 

“Wanna...uh. You know,” Dean said, looking away and scratching his head.

 

While the implied suggestion to masturbate was tempting, they had done so earlier in the evening and Castiel didn’t feel the desire or urge.

 

“I will probably sit this one out, but if you need to then I consent to facing the side effects,” he said, which seemed to make Dean blush slightly.

 

“Nah, you’re right. We should get some rest. The sooner we can get free of these spells, the sooner we’re rid of Ketch. The slimy son-of-a-bitch.” Dean answered, quickly lying down to get comfortable, but Castiel could tell that he wasn’t asleep.

 

After a few minutes Dean turned on his side, “Hey, Cas. Do you think we’ll get mom and Jack back? Do you think we can open the rift again?” His voice wavered a bit, revealing his fear that they might not succeed.

 

“Yes, I believe that we will.”

 

“When we saw mom, what Michael was doing to her… I couldn’t-” Dean stopped talking and Castiel saw tears shining in his eyes. He placed his hand over Dean’s and squeezed it in a comforting manner.

 

“I was convinced that she was dead until Jack showed her to us. Sam always believed that she was still alive, but I… I didn’t believe in anything for a while.” Dean fell quiet again, and Castiel thought he might have drifted off.

 

When Dean spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “I lost all hope when you were gone… I-I didn’t want to carry on.”

 

Castiel was stunned by this revelation. He had no idea that Dean had suffered so much; it’s not like his death was a greater loss than any of the others Dean had experienced. “I am sorry Dean. I-”

 

“No, you shouldn’t be apologizing. It wasn’t your fault; it was Lucifer - that bag of dicks. But I kinda blamed Jack too, and I feel bad about that.” Dean sighed. “Man, I was a mess. I was angry and hopeless. If it wasn’t for Sammy, I don’t know…” He trailed off, and Castiel got the feeling that he was holding something back.

 

“I am glad I came back. Although I still do not know why I woke up in the empty, or what my purpose is.”

 

Dean responded to this, but it was said so quietly that Castiel could not make out the words. He was amazed that Dean had said as much as he had though. The hunter was not exactly known for telling the truth, especially when it came to feelings - ‘chick flick moments’ as he called them.

 

They both drifted off, having said no more on the subject, but Castiel felt like Dean had really opened up to him for the first time.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean woke up feeling like he had gotten a lot off his chest. He had said the words out loud - told Cas some of what he went through when he thought the angel was gone forever. There was a lot more that he could have said, but what he did tell him was enough for now.

 

He became aware of feeling secure, comfortable. There was a regular thump thump beneath him…weird. _Oh_. He opened his eyes and discovered that he was lying with his head on Cas’s chest. He could only hope that Cas wasn’t awake.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

 _Damn it_. No such luck.

 

“Oh, uh… morning, Cas. Sorry about, y’know.” Dean sat up and tried not to appear too flustered.

 

 

“That’s okay,” Cas laughed and sat up too, “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked very peaceful.”

 

Dean laughed to cover his embarrassment, then made his way… their way to the showers. By now it had become second nature to have Cas standing in the stall with him while he washed. In fact…

 

“Hey, could you wash my back. Right in the middle. Yeah, thanks.” Dean was now bizarrely comfortable with Cas washing his back for him. Of course, Sammy would give him shit for this if he found out, so he wasn’t about to share.

 

When he was dried off again, Dean sent a text to Sam, as had become his custom over the last couple of weeks.

 

**Dean: Hey Sammy. How’s it going with the lovely Eileen?**

 

**Sam: Good. We’re good. She asked if she could punch Ketch again, but I stopped her lol**

 

**She’s got her priorities straight.**

 

**Yeah. She’s amazing. :)**

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the text. It had been years since Sam had fallen for someone. Last time had been Amelia, but Dean hadn’t gotten to know much about her, nor had he been in a steady enough place with Sam to. But Eileen made his brother happy, softer in some ways and less on his guard. She knew him better than any other woman had and accepted his life and his faults. Sam deserved someone as great as her. Dean couldn’t imagine how his brother felt when he thought she was gone for good.

 

As always the day was taken up with more research. Ketch was getting a small taste of his own medicine by being locked up in a room with just some books and a bucket while the four of them sat around the table, splitting the rest of the texts between them. Sometime in the afternoon Sam looked up from his book and grinned at Dean.

 

“Dude, I’ve found something,” he exclaimed, sliding a book across the table, “It says here that finding and accepting your true love is the cure for one of the spells.”

 

Dean huffed and rolled his eyes. “Not much chance of that is there?” he said with a note of annoyance in his voice.

 

“Really, you sure about that?” Sam gave Dean a strange look.

 

Dean kicked his brother under the table. He wasn’t sure what Sam was going on about, but he didn’t particularly care to know. He could feel Cas staring at him, but deliberately avoided returning his gaze. What, were they all ganging up on him now?

 

No more was said on the matter for the rest of the day, but Dean felt that Cas was quieter than usual. Maybe he found the idea of Dean finding and accepting his true love ridiculous too.

 

When they were back in Dean’s room for the night, Cas suddenly turned to him and said “I want to tell you something.”

 

He didn’t say anything else, and Dean realized that he was waiting for Dean to speak. “Oh, yeah. Go ahead, buddy.”

 

Cas hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I feel that, while I find personality the most important aspect when choosing a partner, I think…Overall, I believe that I am more drawn to men than women.”

 

“Oh. Well, thanks for telling me,” Dean answered. He wasn’t really sure what he should say and the growing knot in his belly didn’t help, but he hoped he sounded sincere.

 

“I don’t know if this is because most of my interactions have been with men, or because my first vessel was a heterosexual woman.”

 

“Most of your inter… right,” Dean was trying very hard not to let his personal feelings for Cas affect him, but had Cas had interactions with men besides them? What was he supposed to do with this information? “I-I didn’t know that.”

 

“I hope you are not annoyed that I didn’t tell you this before. The dates I went on never amounted to anything. My reason for accepting them was mostly loneliness.”

 

Cas had been lonely and he went out with random dudes? This knowledge made Dean more unhappy than he would ever care to admit. Finding out about the dates was painful, but knowing that it was out of loneliness made him feel sick.

 

“What are you talking about? What dates?” Dean blurted out, not even managing to meet Cas’s eyes as he did so.

 

Cas let out a breath and sat down on the bed. Despite Dean feeling a strong sense of hesitation, he followed suit and sat next to him.

 

“I…” Cas began, then shook his head, “It isn’t often. In fact, I could count the number of times I have gone out on a date with someone who has asked. One of them was a woman. She was kind, genuinely so and not like April who had wanted to hurt me. But she wasn’t like Meg who I had actually felt a real connection with. I don’t know, Dean. I didn’t think much of her after the fact. We didn’t kiss or anything of the sort. I thought it was a one off, as you might say. But then several months later, I was asked out by a man. I don’t know why, but I connected with him more. We kissed and I was attracted to him as a person. His life was very tragic, most of his family was dead. He had raised his younger sibling but was too afraid to settle down and start a family of his own. I saw him twice but knew nothing could come of it, due to his personal demons and my own. There were five more men, all just one night outings. To the movies or to a bar or dinner. One time I went bowling. I was terrible at it the first game but then understood the physics of it and got all strikes the second. Christopher thought I had been playing dumb just so he would have to come up and physically try to help me, but I assure you that was not the case. I appreciated the company, but all I could think of was getting on with researching and searching for a cure to the mark, on a way to defeat Amara, finding Kelly...all so I could get back here to you. You and Sam.”

 

Dean grit his teeth, damn it if he knew why. He didn’t even like bowling all that much, but it pissed him off that he hadn’t been the one to introduce Cas, to laugh over his friend getting a bunch of gutterballs in a row before suddenly becoming perfect at it. The fact that his friend had been going out with strange men, kissing them, and felt like he couldn’t tell Dean at all. That he hadn’t been…

 

“You know, Cas,” Dean rasped out, running his free hand over his face before trying to make things a little lighter, “If you wanted to go bowling so bad, you could have just asked me.”

 

“I could have?” Cas asked, sounding almost amused. Dean didn’t know whether that pissed him off or relieved a little bit of the tension.

 

“Yeah,” Dean answered, before continuing, “And you didn’t have to - fuck - date different guys just because you felt lonely or missed us. You could have just called. Came in. _Told_ me that you needed to be around people that cared about you. You didn’t have to settle for guys like that, strangers who don’t know who you really are and don’t care about you in the scheme of things. You deserve better than a string of meaningless dates. Someone - a guy, I guess - who gets you.”

 

“Not very many men, or women, for that matter, would understand my past actions and state of being. Not even you and your brother know everything I’ve done,” Cas told him, “I don’t fit in anywhere, Dean. I would be an incompatible partner for anyone. There’s no one else quite like me.”

 

The words stung with bitterness, enough to make Dean flinch.

 

“I don’t know,” Dean said, trying to make things a little lighter, “I sort of think that makes you even more interesting. If there were others like you, you wouldn’t be as special, right?”

 

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Cas sighed. Dean squinted with concern and, before he could let himself think too much about it, he laced their fingers together.

 

“What’s going on, man?” Dean asked, nudging him with his shoulder, “You’re kind of breaking my heart right now.”

 

Cas glanced over towards Dean and his eyes became more tender, “Don’t...Don’t worry about me. I don’t know why I told you-”

 

“Because I’m your best friend, Cas!” Dean interrupted harshly, “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? Talk to each other?”

 

“I suppose,” Cas brushed off, only to suddenly stand up and remove his hoodie, “I would like to rest, if you don’t mind. I feel drained.”

 

“Drained?” Dean frowned up at him, concerned, “What’s going on with you?”

 

“I’m just _tired_ , Dean!” Cas snapped, “Now would you get on your side of the bed? Or are you set on switching and sleeping on our stomachs? I frankly don’t care.”

 

Dean threw his hands up and got to his feet, “Fine. I can see when someone wants to avoid a conversation. Go to sleep for all I care.”

 

After they were settled in bed, Dean knew it would be a low blow to watch one of their shows once Cas turned away from him and shut his eyes, but he did it anyway. It was times like this where he wished chewing off his arm would free him of this stupid curse and of Cas, even if it was just for a few minutes so that he could think alone. It’s not like he wasn’t still worried about his friend, he was, but he was pissed at him at the same time for being so confusing, as well as being pissed at himself for not realizing how lost his friend might be.

 

Shit.

 

Dean closed his eyes, breathed out through his nose, then reached over to grab the remote and turn off the television. Glancing over at Cas’s form, he bit his lips before turning onto his side and wrapping his arms around him, pressing his head against Cas’s shoulder.

 

Cas didn’t say a word, but putting his hands over Dean’s to keep him there said enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Five days later, as they were sitting around the table doing research once more, the bunker door swung open dramatically. Dean, Cas, Sam, and Eileen were immediately on their feet as the sound of clicking heels preceded the sight of a petite red headed woman in a cocktail dress at the top of the stairs.

 

“Hello, boys. Did ye miss me? I’ve been doing a wee bit of research, and I know how to break one of the spells.”

 

“Rowena.” There was irritation in Cas’s voice as he spoke to the witch.

 

“Ooh, it’s my favorite angel,” Rowena replied, ignoring Cas’s tone of voice as she swept down the stairs. When she reached the bottom she turned to Sam and smiled sweetly. “Samuel, I think you will find this useful.” There was a piece of paper in her hand, which she handed to Sam, before sitting down next to him.

 

Dean and Cas stared at Sam, both wondering how the hell Rowena knew about the spells - although it seemed fairly obvious that the big moose had contacted her and asked for her help.

 

“Thanks, Rowena. We appreciate it, don’t we guys?” Sam stared back unashamedly at Dean and Cas.

 

It would have been good to know that you asked for her help,” Dean said with distaste as he gestured at Rowena. After all, she did have a history of causing them problems - especially when she and Sam made plans in secret - even though she had become much more trustworthy of late.

 

“Well _she_ might just have found a way to help with your… predicament.” Rowena said, seemingly unbothered by Dean’s reaction to her presence.

 

Sam read through what was written on the piece of paper, letting Eileen look at it over his shoulder. “Okay, we can get these ingredients easily enough.”

 

“So, we’re gonna be free once you do this spell?” Dean asked, with a hopeful expression on his face.

 

“Uh… no, sorry man. This will stop the two of you feeling each other’s pain, but it won’t break the connection.” Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

 

“Son of a bitch.” If he could have, Dean would have stormed off. But it was a little more difficult when Cas had to come with him. Instead, he put his head in his hands and sighed deeply.

 

“We’ll get there, guys,” Sam said sympathetically, “At least this way we don’t have to worry about both of you immediately getting hurt if things go south and one of you gets injured or sick.” 

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean admitted, “At least if I get shot and kick the bucket, Cas will still be up and around. Unless he has to drag my dead body around for all eternity.”

 

Sam winced at the thought as Cas frowned, “I would probably cut my arm off and let you have it by that point.”

 

Dean turned and looked at Cas, bewildered, “Cas, I never knew you had such a dark sense of humor.”

 

Dean saw Cas bite back a smile as he shrugged, “My apologies if I came off as insensitive.”

 

Dean grinned, “Nah, I like it. So what’s the plan, Witch?”

 

The plus side to having Rowena around meant she was able to get at least one of the spells to run its course before a blue moon. The downside was that his chances at seeing Cas drunk again were slim to none. But he didn’t put much focus into that once he cut into his upper forearm to check if he and Cas were good to go. Instead, he decided that they’d go out now that they could.

 

“This calls for a celebration,” Dean announced, before pointing at Sam and Eileen, “You two, get dressed. Look attractive. Eileen, you’re already beautiful but make sure my brother looks halfway decent. Cas, come on.”

 

“Dean, where are we going?” Sam called out, “We still have a ton of research to do-”

 

“Red’s on it, right?” Dean said, gesturing towards Rowena, “It’s just for the evening. A little road trip and a little fun. Now go.”

 

Despite the pit forming in his stomach, Dean knew this was the right thing to do. He had given up on having anything resembling a loving relationship a long time ago. He wasn’t built for it, regardless of who the person was. But Cas didn’t have to suffer the same fate as him. If just one of them could find “true love” or whatever the spell wanted them to find, then it would have to let them go. Dean wasn’t going to find it, but Cas could. He would let his friend go if it meant he could find a guy who really wanted to take care of him and be there for him. Dean would let Cas free and not make him feel like he was chained to him, figuratively and literally.

 

“I don’t understand,” Cas said standing next to him as Dean dug through his chest of drawers, “What am I supposed to wear?”

 

“You let me figure that out,” Dean dismissed, “I’ll find something that really works for you, okay? Maybe something that brings out your eyes.”

 

Cas didn’t answer him, which was fine since Dean didn’t really know how to elaborate on that either without freaking him out too much. It was just as well, since Dean’s phone began to ding in his pocket.

 

**Sam: Dude, where are we going?**

 

**Dean: Clubbing.**

 

**Sam: What**

 

**Dean: You read me.**

 

**Sam: Is this for a case or did you get a lead that you didn’t tell me about?**

 

**Dean: Nah. Just thought about the true love’s first kiss thing. Cas told me he’s more into guys. Figured we could take him to a place where he could meet some. Club Boomerang. It’s almost 3 hours away, but it’s the closest thing I could find. What do you think?**

 

**Sam: …**

 

Shit. Dean was a fucking jerk. He just outed Cas, didn’t he? Logically, Dean knew that Sam probably wouldn’t care. It would be out of character and cruel of his brother to be a dick about Cas being into men. But Dean had never really known that for sure. And besides, even if Sam started waving a rainbow flag, it didn’t mean that Dean hadn’t still fucked up. It hadn’t been his place to out Cas-

 

Another ding pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked down at his phone.

 

**Sam: I’m glad he told you. He mentioned it to me a year or so ago. Told him you wouldn’t think differently of him. I’m glad you’re taking it well.**

 

A rush of jealousy and hurt hit him like a train. He needed a few seconds before hitting REPLY and violently typing out:

 

**Get ready.**

 

“You seem upset,” Cas said, tilting his head, “Is something wrong?”

 

“I’m just peachy, Cas. Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean asked, before throwing some clothes at him, “Put these on. I’d do your hair but you always look like you’ve rolled out of bed, freshly fucked.”

 

Cas blinked at him and stepped back, “Is that supposed to be an insult or-”

 

“It’s not an insult!” Dean interrupted, turning around, “Now get on with it!”

 

Soon enough, the four of them were piled into the Impala, Dean at the wheel, Cas in the front passenger seat, and Sam and Eileen together in the back, signing and smiling away, all cutesy and shit. He turned up the radio, loud enough to make conversation between Cas and himself near impossible. It was enough that Cas’s hand had to hover while he drove and that they’d have to get out of the car on the same damn side. He needed space, and that was for the best if they were going to lure men over to their table so that Cas could hit on them.

 

It was just after 8 when they arrived at Club Boomerang, and dark enough so that they could get out of the car without raising too many eyebrows. Dean dragged Cas over to the line outside, typical for a Friday night probably, and discreetly checked out the guy’s ass in front of him. Definitely not a first from him, nor could he lie to himself and say that it was. If he was a better friend, he would have probably told Cas about his occasional hookups with guys, something that had been much more frequent in his late teens and early twenties. But it really didn’t have anything to do with Cas and the focus wasn’t on Dean’s gratification tonight. The only way Dean was going to focus on himself tonight at all was if Cas wanted to go home with a guy, and that’s only because he would have to, considering the fact that Cas wouldn’t get very far without him. He would have to be a good friend at that point. Swallow the guy’s dick down while Cas fucked him with the huge cock Dean already knew he had-

 

He stopped his train of thought in its tracks when it began to ponder a threesome with Cas and some hot guy. Besides, logically Dean knew the guy would have to be in the middle in that case anyway. Otherwise, it would be weird.

 

“So, Eileen,” Dean started, leaning back and forth on his feet, “First gay club?”

 

Eileen gave him a look, “No. My friend from high school is a drag queen in London.”

 

“Huh, neat,” Dean responded, “You will have to show Sam the ropes then.”

 

Eileen squinted in confusion, “Show him the ropes to what? Dressing up as a woman?”

 

Dean barked out a laugh, “Sam in heels would be a gigantic sight, but that’s not what I meant. I meant when it comes to gay clubs.”

 

Sam’s lips quirked upwards as he shook his head, “I’ve been to a few gay clubs, Dean. I even went to one with you for a case, remember? But even before that. California is pretty liberal and LGBTQ friendly, in case you didn’t know. One of my roommates from my sophomore year was gay. The other guy we shared a suite with was a total dick about it, but I tried to be supportive by going out with him every once in a while and tagging along with him to go to Pride.”

 

Sam then let out a soft laugh and shook his head, “My study partner was a lesbian. I wasn’t nearly as popular at the bar she took me to.”

 

“What about you, Dean?” Eileen said, before Dean could even answer Sam, “Have you been to a gay club? Besides the one you and Sam found yourselves in.”

 

Dean shrugged, not managing to meet anyone’s eyes, but decided not to lie, “Yeah, some when I was younger. I was...uh...curious, I guess. They were alright.”

 

Dean risked a glance at Sam and his brother looked...well, surprised would be an understatement. Shit. This was not how this was supposed to go. But before Sam or Eileen could pry anything else out of him, they reached the bouncer and were asked for their IDs.

 

“I don’t understand,” Cas said, handing the bouncer his card, “I’m aware that I look much younger than I really am, but certainly I look older than 20.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes as he handed over his own card, “Just take it as a compliment, man. Come on. Sam and Eileen can find us a table while you and I get us all some drinks.”

 

With Eileen’s whiskey sour in one hand and his own rum and coke in another, he led Cas across the dance floor, winking at a couple of admirers as they passed through the crowd. Dean peered around before he saw Sam wave him over to a U-shaped booth in the corner.

 

“Over there,” Dean said, pointing out his brother and Eileen.

 

“Eileen, here’s your drink,” Dean said, putting the glass in front of her, “Sam, Cas has your weak ass, fruity shit. Scoot over, man.”

 

Once the four of them were seated and had a little bit of alcohol in their systems, Sam looked over at Dean and began to sign for Eileen’s benefit as he spoke.

 

“So what’s the plan from here?” Sam asked, “You’re on some kind of mission to find Cas’s one true love, right? Are we waiting for him to come to us?”

 

Dean gave Sam an exasperated and disbelieving look as he shook his head, “Nah, man. Cas is going to have to put himself out there a little before they start flocking over to us.”

 

“Dean,” Cas started, seeming a little exasperated himself, “I don’t see how I am supposed to ‘put myself out there’ when-”

 

“You’ll just go out and ask someone to dance,” Dean interrupted, “If you think they’re hot and they haven’t noticed you yet, then just go up and ask them if they’ll dance with you. Worst thing they can say is no. But if they’re giving you the eye - like if they wink at you and don’t seem to be with anyone and they’re making eye contact - that’s them giving you a sign to go right on up and dance with them, no words needed. It’s all about body language at that point. But still be respectful.”

 

Cas stared at Dean, unamused, then shook his head, “And how am I supposed to dance with these men when you are practically attached to my arm?”

 

“Shit,” Dean answered. He hadn’t thought of that. He gauged the dance floor before coming up with an answer.

 

“Dance floor’s crowded,” Dean pointed out, “Figure I could find someone to dance with myself. Maybe your guy will have a friend or I can just drag my guy closer to the guy you choose.”

 

“ _Your_ guy?” Sam butt in, and goddamn it if his brother wasn’t holding back a laugh, the fucker.

 

“You know what I mean, Sam,” Dean growled.

 

“Dean, I feel like I have entered some screwed up version of the Twilight Zone. But I think the stars of that show are less clueless.”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, glaring across the table, “You know what? I don’t even want to know. So yeah, Cas. One, I find my guy, clue him in a little on the situation and who you have your sights on. Two, you ask your guy to dance or get right to it if he shows interest right off the bat. And three, you get to know him, fall in love, build a white picket fence, adopt babies, and live a gay and happy life without me attached at the hip.”

 

“Dean, I have never danced in my life,” Cas said urgently, “I’m not going to dance for the very first time with someone I’ve never even spoken to.”

 

“Huh,” Dean answered, “Good point. Alright, new plan. First step will be us going out onto the floor and me teaching you how to dance. We’ll dance to a few songs, make sure you have the hang of it, then the original plan will be set into motion.”

 

“I...I like that idea a little better,” Cas answered.

 

“Yeah, Cas,” Sam spoke up, after he finished signing who knew what to Eileen, “I like that idea better too.”

 

“Sam, you’re here as constant but silent support,” Dean snarked, “Not as an opinionated mouthpiece.”

 

Sam held his hands up in surrender, but grinned at Eileen in a way that Dean didn’t like while doing so. He refused to comment on it though, instead opting to motion for Cas to begin sliding out of the booth.

 

“But Dean, wait,” Cas stopped before reaching the edge of the booth, causing Dean to bump into him, “I don’t know if I even _like_ this music. I prefer the music you put on the mixtape you made for me.”

 

“A mixtape?” Sam blurted out, standing up only to lean across the table, “When did Dean make you a mixtape? I need details, Cas.”

 

“Ignore Sam,” Dean said quickly, reaching over to shove Sam back into his seat, “He’s drunk.”

 

“I’m NOT drunk. My curiosity is at an all-time high and I am questioning-”

 

“What made you into such a little bitch?” Dean interrupted, sending him his own brand of the bitchface, “Man, what does Eileen see in you? She’s so awesome and you’re so annoying.”

 

Eileen smiled at the comment and briefly ran her fingers through his brother’s hair, which seemed to make Sam slowly sit down, soften, and melt immediately, “He’s tall. And muscly.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes before gesturing to Cas to keep sliding out of the booth, “Yeah. If you’re into that.”

 

* * *

 

 

Eileen nudged Sam’s arm, “They’ve been dancing together for seven songs now. And they’re standing awfully close.”

 

Sam nodded, giving her that, then sighed before he sighed as he spoke, “If you were talking about anyone else other than Cas and my brother, I would say that they were going to hook up tonight. But I’ve been watching them for years, Eileen. Years. And the way Dean’s going about this spell makes me want to bash his head against a wall.”

 

“Don’t they shower together though?” Eileen asked, “Like, you can’t tell me Dean hasn’t at least thought about dropping the soap and hoping for the best.”

 

Sam usually prided himself on being able to handle the most off the wall and messed up comments. From his own brother’s sarcastic quips to Claire’s drive when it came to shocking people for attention. Even when the occasional demon tried to mention something about his family or himself to really get under his skin, he tended to be able to keep a straight face through it all.

 

But the words that had just left Eileen’s mouth had him feeling mortified.

 

Eileen let out a laugh then, one that was ornery, mischievous, and sexy and Sam suddenly couldn’t get enough of her, despite wanting to push her out of the booth just moments before.

 

“I don’t even know what to say to you right now,” Sam choked out, beginning to laugh as well.

 

Eileen mockingly fluttered her eyelashes and gave him a grin, “That I’m adorable?”

 

“What the hell?” Sam muttered, his shoulders still shaking with chuckles, “Out of all the women in the world, I end up with one who has the same humor as my brother.”

 

Eileen shrugged, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Dean’s funny. From his one-liners to his goofiness to his ridiculous plan to get Cas laid when he could just do it himself, he’s the whole package.”

 

Sam sent her a playful glare, “Should I be jealous?”

 

“Oh, please,” Eileen dismissed, “Your package is _much_ bigger.”

 

It wasn’t until Sam was finished kissing her that he caught onto the euphemism.

 

“Ugh, breeders,” a man commented as he walked past their table, then suddenly slid in next to Sam, “I’ve been sizing you up all night from across the floor. Should have realized it was too good to be true. Here I thought, ‘That hunk of a man is going to be my Prince Charming. I am going to climb him like a tree tonight and we’ll live happily ever after.’ I had it all planned out. Three dogs: one Chihuahua, one French Bulldog, and one Tibetan Mastiff. Then we would have five daughters, two in-vitro and three adopted: Anastasia, Celeste, Mirabelle, Carmelita, and Harmony. You would be totally free to pick the middle names. But then you go and kiss her and she’s beautiful and has a nice dress! Where did you get that dress, honey? I have to know. Personal reasons.”

 

“Found it in storage,” Eileen answered, amused, “His...uh, house. Previous owners left generations upon generations of clothing up there. I liked this one.”

 

“Oooh, vintage!” The man said, clapping his hands, “And free. I always love a steal. But I suppose I won’t steal your man, even though dimples are my weakness. My name’s Frederick, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 

“Sam,” Sam answered, “This is Eileen.”

 

“Like the song! One of my faves. What brings you to an establishment such as this tonight?”

 

“My brother,” Sam answered, rolling his eyes as Eileen accepted another round of shots, making sure to get one for the new addition at the table, “He brought his best friend here so that Cas could find his, uh, ‘one true love.’”

 

“Nevermind that Dean’s completely in love with him,” Eileen added, catching the tail end of the conversation.

 

“Ah, how romantic,” Frederick sighed dreamily, then surprisingly began to sign, “And honey, I don’t mean to pry, but do you sign? My brother is deaf. I grew up giving my hands quite the workout, but whenever I say that little phrase here their minds go in a completely separate direction.”

 

Eileen signed back to Frederick, confirming that she does sign and that she would appreciate him signing what he could.

 

“He’s still learning,” Eileen voiced as she signed, “He’s smart though and is picking it up pretty fast. We’re focusing on Signed Exact English so that he can pick up the vocabulary before he jumps straight into ASL when it comes to long or complex sentences.”

 

“My brother works at a school for the deaf and will switch back and forth from ASL to SEE because that’s what the kids tend to do and I’m like, ‘Sweetie, you’re a hot mess right now’ and then he gets all offended and then throws something at me when I look away,” Frederick sighed, “But what can you do? Speaking of my brother. He also fell in love with his best friend. Took years for him to make a move too, and it made no sense to me because they’re both straight and of the opposite sex. No sexual confusion or underlying traumas. Like, what’s the issue? They’re together now though and have two little boys I love to spoil. So what’s your brother’s problem? Is it the gay thing?”

 

“Uh…” Sam began, not sure how to navigate a conversation about this with a stranger, “If you would have asked me a year or two ago, I would have said that was probably it. It might still be a little. But...I _think_ he may have come out when we were standing in line? I mean, he didn’t really-”

 

“He definitely threw out a hint and was nervous about it. He basically said he used to be curious about guys,” Eileen clarified as Frederick accepted jello shots for the table.

 

“Oh, that’s at least a foot out of the closet then. Next step is just the rest of the leg,” Frederick shrugged, “So where is your brother and this Cas? I want to see what we’re dealing with here.”

 

Sam discreetly pulled his flask out as he pretended to look around, poured some holy water on his fingers, then swung an arm around Frederick’s shoulders to touch the man’s bare bicep, “Over there, between the shirtless guy in the black jeans and the guy in the leather jacket.”

 

“...Ew, your brother is the beefy guy with the mullet?” Frederick winced with disgust, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude-”

 

“No, to that guy’s right,” Sam pointed, “He’s wearing the grey t-shirt. Cas is wearing the light blue button up.”

 

“Okay, they are gorgeous. I want them both,” Frederick said as Sam let go to opt to sign words into Eileen’s hand, ones that Dean would mock him for if he knew, “And they are dancing together. Closely. That’s a good sign.”

 

“For about an hour now. Maybe more,” Sam answered, “And here Dean said he was just going to teach him how to dance.”

 

“Maybe he’s just doing a very thorough job,” Frederick suggested, “Oh my god, Dean is touching Cas’s face. He’s caressing it, Sam. That’s a good sign.”

 

“If you say so,” Sam sighed, “I’ve been watching them metaphorically dance around each other for almost a decade. I’ll believe they’re a thing when they put a wedding announcement in the damn paper.”

 

“No, I can feel it. They’ll kiss any second now. You’d have to be blind not to see it but even a blind person could feel the sexual tension. I’m giving them five sec-what are they doing? Why are they not dancing anymore? Why dance with other men when you can dance with each other?!”

 

“It was a good run,” Eileen commented, leaning back against the booth to close her eyes for a moment, only to peer out from one eye to look at Sam, “Who did Dean choose?”

 

“ _Some man who looks like Cas_ ,” Sam signed, then leaned to the side to rest his cheek against the top of Eileen’s head.

 

“Now isn’t the time to sleep,” Frederick began to fret, “I’m too invested and I don’t even know them but even I can tell they’re ruining their lives. We have to do something.”

 

“You’re a funny guy, Frederick,” Sam slurred, but sat up and prompted Eileen to do the same, “Frederick wants to play matchmaker with Dean and Cas.”

 

“Frederick’s a great friend,” Eileen said, her words loose, “More people should be like Frederick. Dean should be more like Frederick. Confident and proud of who he is. Not being afraid to go after who he wants to tell him he wants to climb him like a tree and have five daughters with him.”

 

“I don’t see Dean wearing a mesh shirt though,” Sam tsked.

 

“Why not? He’d look great!” Eileen said too loudly and seriously to be a joke.

 

“I’ll lend him one,” Frederick dismissed, “But I need you two to focus because I have a plan.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cas had enough practice to sway to the thumping of the music that blasted through the speakers. He still didn’t see the appeal of it, but with Dean he had been comfortable dancing. They talked about several things. Dean spoke about his adventurous early twenties, albeit vaguely. Castiel told the story of witnessing a spontaneous feast thrown by David that lasted for three days. As exciting as that had been, Castiel found Dean’s stories much more interesting. While he did rebuild his friend and knew much about him, he was more than aware he knew far from everything. He knew more than most, yes. But he was never made aware of Dean Winchester until Zachariah sent his garrison down to the depths of Hell to save him. While he had read the Winchester Gospels to gain understanding of the soul he had been sent to save, there were huge gaps of time that were never covered in them, times that Dean rarely - if ever - spoke about.

 

He preferred to hear Dean’s stories over his own. He preferred the man’s voice over just about anything else.

 

“I guess, uh,” Dean chucked, looking down almost bashfully, “I guess you better ask someone to dance now, huh? You’ll do fine, man. Just be yourself. Well, don’t use your powers or talk about witnessing stuff from thousands of years ago, but you know what I mean. Hey, he’s cute. I mean, if you’re into guys. And that’s what you’re into and I can see you getting with him. Let’s go talk to him. I’ll talk you up and everything…”

 

Suddenly, Dean’s voice was much more trying.

 

But he went along with his friend’s plan. And he’ll admit, Dean’s choice for him wasn’t terrible by any extent. Castiel could sense he was kind. If he were the type to hold physical appearances to a high esteem, Castiel would definitely appreciate this man’s looks immensely. Gideon was thirty-nine years old and had gotten out of a serious relationship a year ago. He was a doctor, a pediatrician to be specific. Dean had given him the advice to alter his own background. So instead of being Castiel, disgraced and rebellious Angel of the Lord, He was Cas Novak, a forty-two year old professor and researcher of Theology. Gideon had taken him by surprise and asked if he followed any religions himself.

 

“No,” he said, “Not really. I believe in Heaven and Hell but I don’t believe in what they stand for, nor do I have very much faith anymore. I uh...grew up with a Jewish and Christian background. Uh, Islam as well, to some extent. I know it sounds strange, but family sort of followed the western religions due to their similarities. They never can quite agree on anything and have some negative views on human nature. Some of my siblings can be very extreme and wrathful.”

 

“Damn,” Gideon muttered, “That sucks about your family. So I guess they were pissed about you being gay?”

 

Castiel squinted at the other man, “I think that’s the least of their worries.”

 

Gideon looked confused by his answer, before his eyes flicked toward Dean, who was just a foot or so away from them with his own partner. Then, slowly, he leaned in to speak in Castiel’s ear, “Then what’s keeping you from hooking up with your friend? Anyone can see you both are hot for each other.”

 

Castiel cleared his throat and tilted his head back, “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Dean is more attracted to women.”

 

Gideon snorted, “Yeah, it really looks that way.”

 

Castiel risked a glance at Dean. Dean was already on his way to being drunk. Castiel had known this. He had certainly accepted enough shots from the bartenders on the floor and had taken at least a few trips up to the bar when the two of them had been dancing together. Castiel couldn’t blame him. Dean was free to indulge for the first time in almost a month now that Castiel wouldn’t suffer a double whammy of the repercussions. Dean’s partner seemed to be buzzed as well and he seemed to be _very_ attracted to Dean. From caressing Dean’s face to sticking his fingers beneath the back of Dean’s jeans, his friend just seemed to accept the affection, tilting his neck back as his partner pressed kisses against it. Castiel wondered if he should do something, something that wasn’t driven by jealousy and possessiveness, but something with a more noble force behind it - like leading Dean away to keep his friend from engaging in acts he wouldn’t do normally or might regret.

 

“I think he’s a bit more into dudes than he lets on,” Gideon mused. And Castiel couldn’t help but want to thank the DJ for playing such obnoxiously loud songs. While Dean’s current behavior did make Castiel question Dean’s attractions, he shook his head and forced a smile.

 

“It doesn’t matter what he is,” Castiel answered, still dancing because what else could he do when Dean was so occupied with someone else yet still chained to him? “I cherish my friendship and bond with him too much to make him feel sorry for me due to my own feelings. Or worse, make him feel obligated. He is too precious to me.”

 

Gideon sighed, “You have it bad, man. Reminds me of how I tiptoed around my ex when we were on the cusp of getting together...Look, I’m going to try something. Don’t freak out, okay?”

 

“Alrigh-”

 

Gideon’s lips were on his before he could get a word out. The kiss started out soft and gentle, but grew with passion. Castiel froze at first, taken by surprise, but let himself relax into the kiss as he reciprocated, matching the feelings Gideon put behind it. Even though he had just met Gideon and he wasn’t sure how to navigate the scene that Dean had thrown him in, it felt good. Castiel liked the kiss, just as he had enjoyed making out with Derek a couple of years before. That had gotten more heated than this kiss, but this one was becoming more intense, growing with need and-

 

“We’re going back to our table,” Dean informed him with a snarl, taking his hand to yank him away from Gideon, “They’re not invited.”

 

“Dean-”

 

“Now, Cas. We came with Sam and Eileen. Least we can do is check up on them and not ditch them for these guys,” Dean argued, glancing at Gideon with disgust.

 

“Dean,” Castiel said slowly, “This was your idea.”

 

Dean huffed and sputtered at Castiel’s point, “Well, I changed my damn mind! Now, come on. I want to go sit with my brother.”

 

Castiel held up his hands, “Fine. We’ll go. It was nice meeting you, Gideon.”

 

“Yeah, you too,” Gideon smirked as Dean began to drag him away, “And Cas? He has it bad, man.”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean had been right to check in on Sam and Eileen, but he was still too late. It was a damn shame his brother and his girlfriend could be so personable when they wanted to be. If only they could be goblins and terrifying as hell. But no, with Eileen’s contagious and charismatic sass and Sam’s fucking dimples, they had already made a friend, one they had apparently done several shots with already. One who was dressed in a mesh top and had sequined nipple rings peeking through.

 

And really, Dean wasn’t judging. He had a friend who basically wore one outfit up until recently and Sam Winchester as a brother. He had never been a fashion snob when it came to friends, family, and acquaintances. But where did this guy even buy a shirt like that? What led him over to that shirt, made him think, ‘Wow, I will look great in this and won’t get double takes at all.’

 

Okay, now that Dean was thinking about it, he felt stupid. Double takes were exactly what this guy was aiming for. And that was confirmed once he started blatantly flirting with Cas.

 

“I didn’t know there was a prince in our midst!” the man gasped before taking Cas’s hand, “My name’s Frederick. But you can call me anything you want to.”

 

Cas squinted as Frederick kissed his hand and tilted his head, “I don’t understand. I’m not of a royal bloodline. And why would I call you anything but your name?”

 

Frederick grinned and looked at Sam and Eileen, before beginning to sign, “You two were right. He _is_ funny. And gorgeous to boot. You, honey, are the whole package. Now, sit! Right here next to me. I’ve gotten to know so much about Sam and Eileen and now it’s your turn.”

 

Castiel still looked confused as Frederick pulled him down snug against him and Dean grit his teeth. Two could play at that game.

 

Dean slid along with Cas, leaning into his friend much closer than he needed to be, their forearms and sides flush against each other as Dean leaned forward to look at Frederick.

 

“So what drew you to my brother and Eileen?” he asked, “They tend to get preoccupied making googly eyes at each other.”

 

Frederick rolled his eyes as he gave the signing couple a glance, “Well, to be frank, one look at Sam across the room had me falling madly in love. I mean, can you blame me? I appreciate good hair and good genes in a tall, muscular man. Even though I _suppose_ I could have tried to steal him away and make him go head over heels for me, it didn’t seem right. Besides, even I can admit that Eileen is stiff competition. But then he pointed out your friend, a single and beautiful hunk of a man.”

 

“Did he?” Dean grit out, staring at Sam’s blank expression.

 

“Nice of him, wasn’t it?” Frederick asked, before turning his attention to Cas once more, “Although, I did see you kissing a certain someone on the floor. Someone almost as cute as I am. I’m not too late, am I? Have you given your heart to another man?”

 

Cas gulped and shook his head, “No. Gideon and I...I don’t see anything further transpiring with us.”

 

“Excellent,” Frederick grinned, “I don’t mean to pry, but Sam mentioned Dean brought you here to find someone special, that you are navigating your way into the LGBTQ lifestyle.”

 

“I suppose I am trying to find someone,” Cas frowned, “But I don’t know if I am looking for a new lifestyle. I don’t see myself vastly changing or-”

 

“Listen, I’ve been out since I was fifteen,” Frederick revealed, “I’ve faced a lot of shit. Bullying, beatings, extended family throwing out slurs or condemning me to Hell-”

 

“People don’t go to Hell for being gay,” Cas interrupted, “That’s an inaccurate statement written by man and the man who wrote Leviticus was a prude who was afraid and disgusted by his own natural desires.”

 

Frederick gasped, “That is the best interpretation of the Bible I have ever heard. Sam didn’t tell me how smart you were. I’ll have you know I hold intelligence in high esteem. I, myself, am quite smart, if I’m allowed to toot my own horn. I studied Business at Wharton, dropped out due to lack of funds, but _then_ became a lumberjack. Yes, yes, it might have been because I have a thing for strong and strapping men, but I worked my way up, earned their respect, and now I own one of the biggest logging companies in the country. And it has the lowest number of fatalities. That...That’s really important to me. When I was 25, my lover got crushed by a falling tree...I can’t, I just can’t.”

 

Frederick sniffled and looked away as Eileen put a drunken and sympathetic hand on his arm.

 

“Are you done with the sob story? You’re killing my buzz,” Dean yawned, keeping his eyes focused under the table at Frederick’s wandering hand.

 

“Dean!” Sam scolded, “Would it kill you to be more sensitive? His boyfriend got crushed by a tree.”

 

“Who are you to give me advice?” Dean muttered.

 

“No, Dean’s right,” Frederick insisted, clearing his throat, “Tonight is a happy night. I’ve made new friends, I’ve had some good drinks, and most importantly, I’ve met you. Now I want to know everything, absolutely everything about you.”

 

Dean bit back a laugh at Frederick’s demand. If Frederick actually got the 411 on Cas, he’d take off running. He almost regrets feeding his friend a backstory now.

 

* * *

 

 

“So how many men have you been with?”

 

The question, especially asked in its genuine and well-meaning curiosity, took Cas by surprise to say the least.

 

“I’m not sure what you mean by that question,” Cas said slowly, “Or why one would keep count. For instance, I am sitting with three men right now. And Eileen, who is a woman.”

 

For some reason, Frederick giggled at his answer and ran a hand through Cas’s hair, “Sweetheart, you are _adorable_. And believe me, if Eileen books a room for herself or agrees to film us as a keepsake, I am more than down for that foursome-”

 

“Not happening,” Sam objected, finishing off his drink while Dean just glared off into space, “I’ve done a lot of questionable things, but I’m not going to add incest to that list. Or becoming a pornstar.”

 

Frederick rolled his eyes and huffed, “Now who’s the prude? I swear, Cas. I don’t know what I _ever_ saw in him. The one good thing that came out of Sam other than our everlasting friendship is that he introduced me to you. But back to the question. I am referring to men you’ve been romantically and/or sexually involved with and how far you’ve gone with them, besides Gideon.”

 

“You know Gideon?” Cas asked.

 

“ _Everyone_ knows Gideon,” Frederick confirmed, “He was considered the best lay for the longest time before he went monogamous with Scott for four or five years, give or take. I’m happy to say I know of his abilities from personal experience, way back when. But I’m glad you passed him up and came to talk to me. It’s for the best this way. Now go on.”

 

“Uh…” Cas trailed off, before becoming slightly alarmed as he felt everyone’s eyes on him, “I’ve gone out on dates with a few men. I’ve kissed a couple of them goodnight, or they’ve kissed me. With Derek, things went further-”

 

“What?” Dean asked in a low voice. If he had said it even slightly more quietly, Cas might had not have even heard him, his grace be damned.

 

“Ooooh, tell us about your tryst with Derek!” Frederick exclaimed, practically bouncing in the booth, signing for Eileen’s benefit enthusiastically. Despite the prying, Cas did appreciate Frederick’s knowledge of ASL and inclusiveness towards her. With Dean only knowing the alphabet and some common phrases he had just picked up in the last year and Sam’s alcohol levels making his own signing sloppy, Castiel felt it was good that there was someone else besides himself who could sign what was being said at the table when she needed it. Maybe that was why he felt obligated to answer Frederick’s questions in the first place.

 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean scowled, staring at him with such betrayal that it made Cas want to sink through the floor, “Tell us. We’re all dying to know.”

 

“Dean, don’t be a jerk,” Sam glared, his words starting to slur together.

 

Dean smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes, “Who’s being a jerk? I didn’t say one thing could be considered jerkish.”

 

“Why are you talking about things said in Turkish?” Eileen asked. Sam carefully fingerspelled out the questionable adjective before returning his gaze to Dean.

 

“It’s your tone and your facial expressions,” Sam accused, “I know your tells. Go on, Cas. Finish your story.”

 

Cas let out a put upon sigh and shook his head, “We didn’t...We didn’t have a _tryst_. We didn’t orgasm together or have sex. Our clothes were off and we were going to, but we were both in bad places emotionally and didn’t go through with it. We just kissed for a while and fell asleep together. But yes, we were in bed together and it was assumed on both of our parts that I was going to penetrate him, at least for the first round, and then we would switch-”

 

“That’s enough!” Dean exploded, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the table, “I want to leave. Now. We’ll get a room from the hotel down the street. I drank too much. feel like I’m going to be fucking sick and don’t want to throw up in this shitty club.”

 

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked, having no choice but to slide out of the booth with his friend as he began to storm out. Dean didn’t give him an answer, but Cas could swear he just heard Frederick say, “Wow, that worked faster than I thought it would. Let’s exchange numbers, Eileen! We’ll FaceTime!”

 

* * *

 

 

“You think they’re alright?” Eileen asked tiredly as they climbed into bed, “Dean really was being sort of being a jerk to him. Although we didn’t really help by letting Frederick get that hookup story out of Cas.”

 

Sam shrugged and turned on his side to face her, “I don’t know. My brother can be a jerk, especially when he turns into a jealous asshole. Cas can handle him and his mood swings, but if I get any word that Dean hurt him because he can’t see through his own shit, then I’ll chew him out for it. Hopefully the jealousy over Cas and the way he was letting that guy feel him up at the club actually makes him pull his head out of his ass once he sobers up.”

 

Eileen nodded and leaned over to give Sam a kiss on the lips, “Let’s hope.”

 

Sam deepened the kiss as Eileen’s lips parted, their tongues flicking together as Eileen gently pushed on his chest to roll him on his back as she climbed on top of him.

 

“ **Now?** ” Sam signed, giving her a still slightly intoxicated grin, “ **I thought you were tired.** ”

 

“Yeah,” Eileen agreed out loud before pulling out a few strips of condoms from the bedside table, “But Frederick slipped condoms into my purse. Three of them are flavored and the rest are ribbed for my pleasure. So I figured I would give you a cherry flavored blowjob just to say that I have. Then I assumed that you would penetrate me, at least for the first round, and then we would switch.”

 

“It was so hot and then you regurgitated Cas’s words,” Sam laughed before letting out a groan as Eileen grinded against him, “I don’t know how you manage to shock me and turn me on at the same time.”

 

“It’s a gift. Just like the condoms,” Eileen shrugged, “But don’t worry. Frederick didn’t manage to slip in a strap-on or a dildo this time around. You’ll be doing all of the penetrating tonight.”

 

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” Sam smiled, rolling his eyes.

 

“Don’t get too cocky,” Eileen warned, lifting herself up slightly to reach down beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs to pull at his cock, “I have a lot of stamina. We can get through all of these by check out if you can keep up.”

 

“Jesus Christ, Eileen,” Sam groaned, his breath hitching.

 

“I mean,” Eileen continued nonchalantly, continuing to jerk him, “It’s okay if you can’t. I’ll just save one or two for us and slip the rest under Dean’s and Cas’s door. Maybe they’ll finally take a hint-”

 

Before Eileen could finish talking about his brother’s and Cas’s repressed sexual desires for each other, Sam took her by surprise and flipped her on her back, gathering her close in his arms to kiss her once more. Biting at her lower lip just slightly as he began to pull away, he unclasped her bra and removed her underwear before throwing them across the room. He teased her nipples with his tongue, then travelled down her body until he was exactly where he wanted to be to get her gasping for more.

 

* * *

 

 

The good thing about having lived on the road for so long was that they were always prepared for an unexpected stop. They always had spare hygiene products in the trunk and a few sets of clothes, even after they made the bunker their permanent residence. So brushing his teeth for a ridiculous amount of time ended up giving him a great excuse not to talk to Cas. It didn’t help that he had to look at the guy in the mirror while he did it, but at least it gave him something to do than dwell on everything. The thought of Cas making out with that guy on the dance floor for a long enough period of time that Dean was pretty sure he smelled Gideon’s cologne on him did not sit well with him right now. It was almost a comfort to think that maybe he was smelling his own dance partner’s cologne. The way he and the guy had basically been necking on the dance floor and how Dean had let him reach down his pants for his fucking asshole…

 

Fuck. Sam and Eileen had just been halfway across the room, within eyesight. Cas had literally been right next to him. How much was he gagging for it? With just a few exceptions since, Dean thought he had gotten most of those desires out of his system by the time he was 24. For a year or two, before he met Cassie and after his dad had let him start hunting alone here and there, Dean had hooked up with so many guys that he honestly thought he might be gay. Maybe it had been the fact he fell hard for a guy and had a good thing going on with him for a while. It didn’t end well and it had hurt pretty bad, but Dean moved on. He moved on and got hurt again by his own extracurriculars to make some cash on the side. It fucked with his head for months. Enough that his dad noticed and tried to get him to talk. When he finally broke down and told him everything...well, Dad didn’t disown him or beat him up. He didn’t call him names. When Dean couldn’t stop fucking blubbering, Dad did hug him for a while and told him he still loved him. Dean would give the guy credit where it’s due. But Dad had been too upset over what happened to really listen after Dean calmed down. Dad had been wrathful towards who had hurt Dean; angry at Dean for being so stupid and reckless; probably uncomfortable because he really didn’t get why Dean was the way that he was, even if he accepted him. The only times they had a conversation that even touched upon his sexuality after that was when Dad made him get tested and when Dean started seeing Cassie.

 

 

That was a year later, when he found love with Cassie. She comforted him as he confided in her about what had happened and accepted that he was bi - a term he had come to tentatively accept for himself a few months before. Then she threw him out when he confided in her about hunting. But even when she broke things off, he didn’t turn away from women. For some reason though, being with men started to make him nervous and if he stopped having sex with men, that could only leave him with being straight. Straight was a lot easier. Because even though the breakups from Cassie and Finn had hurt him just about equally, getting hurt in other ways had fucked him up more. And those ways wouldn’t have happened if he had been straight the whole fucking time.

 

“Dean? Are you alright? Dean?”

 

Dean blinked several times, the toothbrush still hanging out of his mouth, before realizing Cas was talking to him. Well, tough shit. He didn’t want to talk to Cas right now. Cas, the guy who barely had any sexual experience but could come out - to Sam first because apparently Dean can’t be trusted. Cas, the guy who could just casually talk about penetrating a guy despite being sober, while Dean was freaking out about getting turned on by another guy’s teasing fingers even though he’s drunk. Cas, who could talk to a stranger about the intimate parts of his life before his best friend. Fuck Cas.

 

Dean took the toothbrush out of his mouth, rinsed it off, spit in the sink, then grabbed the mouthwash and took a swig to gargle. If the amount of time he did that went on a little too long as well? So be it.

 

Beside him, he heard Cas let out a sigh. A part of Dean felt a little guilty about making Cas just stand around, but really. Cas should have pulled his head out of his ass and figured out why Dean was so mad a long time ago, even if Dean himself can’t really put why into words.

 

Fuck Cas.

 

Without a word, Dean spat the mouthwash in the basin and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving Cas no choice but to fall behind him. Dean just went on with his nightly routine as he would if he weren’t tethered to another person. He pulled down the covers, fluffed the pillows on the bed, then slid across to his side. Cas, however, did not follow suit.

 

“Why won’t you talk to me?” Cas demanded to know, still standing as his arm hovered over the bed.

 

Dean shrugged and faked a yawn, “Maybe I don’t have anything to say to you tonight. Why bother wasting my breath?”

 

When he glanced at Cas, his friend looked like he had been slapped. Before Dean could start feeling too guilty, Cas began to glare at him and breathe out through his nose.

 

“You having nothing of importance to say has never made you shut up before. Just last week, you kept me up because you felt that it was the perfect time to start talking about who were the most ‘badass’ Disney princesses.”

 

Dean felt a flare of hurt and anger rise up within him as he sat up, “Maybe if you knew how to use your words and not be such an awkward conversationalist then you would have been able to tell me you wanted to change the damn topic.”

 

Cas scoffed, “Like you would have listened. You rarely ever do, even when the obvious is right in front of you. But I apologize for not knowing how to ‘use my words.’ I’ve tried my best, despite having an emotionally constipated best friend.”

 

Dean punched the mattress with his right hand, causing Cas’s arm to sway, “Oh, hell no. I’m not the one who always has a stick up his ass.”

 

Cas snarled and grit his teeth, “No, I suppose you don’t, do you? But going by how you were acting at that club with that man, maybe having something up your ass would do you some good.”

 

Dean froze at the comeback, not able to come up with a decent response to that. Cas closed his eyes and tilted his head down towards the floor, the fight deflating from him at a rapid speed.

 

“Dean...Dean, I’m sor-”

 

“Forget it,” Dean interrupted, “Should have just gone with my original plan and not said a word to you to begin with.”

 

On that note, Dean laid back down, forced his eyes to close, and ignored the tension coming off of Cas like waves. If he didn’t know better, Dean would assume that the emotional connection hadn’t been broken at all. As hard as it was to pretend that Cas wasn’t in the same damn room as him, he at least pretended to manage as Cas sat on the bed, settled under the covers himself, and was just as still and rigid as Dean felt.


	5. Chapter 5

After a music-free drive back to the bunker, due to three of the four occupants of the Impala suffering from hangovers, they pulled up outside and Dean rested his head on the steering wheel for a few moments. Along with feeling less than sparkling, he was disappointed that Cas no longer felt the effects when Dean had a drink. He knew that was unfair to Cas, but it had been funny to see the angel get wasted. Instead, Cas had been the only one to stay sober throughout the night. Sober people, in Dean’s honest opinion, tended to be the judgiest. And Cas had seen every damn thing he had done, heard everything he had said. He couldn’t fucking look at him right now, let alone be in close proximity of him.

 

Unfortunately, he had to do both. His life was a cosmic disaster.

 

They all hauled themselves out of the car slowly and went inside before they were greeted by Rowena in the war room.

 

“Oh deary me, look what the cat dragged in,” Rowena made a face of mock-disgust at their slightly unkempt appearance. “At least the angel doesn’t look like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards.”

 

Dean had no idea what the witch was going on about, so he ignored her and went to the kitchen to get some coffee, with Cas falling into step beside him. Hopefully, a cup of good strong coffee would wake him up and clear his head some. He wasn’t ready to talk to Cas about last night so he moved about the kitchen silently, hoping Cas wouldn’t try to engage him in conversation. To his credit, Cas kept quiet, taking the cup Dean offered him without a word before they rejoined the others. Probably for the best. He could sense that Rowena was itching to tell them something.

 

“Out with it, Red,” Dean said. “Did you and Ketch make any progress with the research?”

 

“Not just a pretty face, are you? So perceptive,” Rowena opened the book that was on the table in front of her, and ran her perfectly manicured fingernail down the page. “We found the spell for opening the rift, and one of the ingredients might be a tad problematic to get hold of. I could tell that Mr Ketch was holding something back from me, so I… put a wee spell on him, and he told me something very interesting about Asmodeus.”

 

“Any chance you might get to the point soon, Rowena?” Sam asked, irritably.

 

“So impatient, Giant.” Rowena shook her head at him, then got up from the table and started walking toward the bedrooms. “If ye would follow me, I have something to show you.”

 

This was all very cryptic, and Dean really wasn’t in the mood for Rowena’s little game, but maybe if they did as she said she would tell them faster. They stopped outside one of the guest rooms, where Rowena turned to them with a triumphant expression.

 

“Sooo, it seems that one of the ingredients we need is archangel grace, and-”

 

“Archangel grace? Where the hell are we gonna get that?” Dean interrupted.

 

“Och, will ye have some patience? You see, while you all were having a grand and _gay_ old time, I got to know Mr. Ketch once more and he let a little fun fact slip. Due to this fun fact being pertinent to our needs, I may have put a spell on him to obey my every command, risk his life by returning to Asmodeus, and fetch me a few things like the good dog that he is. And one of those things was… well, this.” Rowena opened the door with a flourish, to reveal a figure cowering in the corner of the room. He was utterly filthy, bloody in some places too, with matted hair hanging over his face. Dean had no idea what they were looking at, until Sam broke the silence.

 

“Gabriel? What the… is that really you?” Sam’s voice was incredulous.

 

Dean stared harder at the bedraggled looking figure. Was it Gabriel? Sam’s words drew no reaction from him, but the sharp intake of breath from Cas told him that it was. They moved carefully into the room, as if approaching a wild animal. As they got closer, he shrunk further back; making himself appear even smaller than he was. But if he thought that Gabriel looked bad from a distance, close up was much worse. Dean had seen some fucked up shit in his life, but the image of the archangel’s mouth being sewn shut was gross and upsetting. Who had done that? Why would someone do that to anyone?

 

Gasps of horror from Cas, Sam, and Eileen told him that they had seen it too. “Rowena? What the hell happened to him?”

 

“I think you need to ask Mr. Ketch that question. I just helped put him in here.”

 

“I will go and get him,” Eileen said, before being stopped by Sam.

 

“Nuh uh. We want him in one piece.”

 

“I’ll go,” Rowena said; already on her way to his room.

 

Dean pulled Cas out of the room and into the hallway, and turned to him with pleading eyes. “What the hell, man? How could they do that to him? It’s… I can’t-”

 

Cas looked as distraught as Dean felt. Seeing his brother like that must be shocking, to say the least. When he made a choked noise, Dean felt an urge to hug him; to tell him that Gabriel would be okay. But the lingering awkwardness and bitterness from last night was still clinging to Dean and it was enough to stop him from initiating any affection. He could feel for Cas and still be pissed at him, as well as himself. But hell if he knew how to go about all that. So he stood and looked at his friend, probably coming off as an emotionally constipated idiot. Although, that’s what Cas thought he was. His reaction probably made sense to him. But before Dean could feel too awkward about it, Rowena returned with Ketch, who looked pretty beat up himself, although he seemed more with it than Gabriel.

 

“Ketch. What happened to Gabriel? And why in the hell did Asmodeus have him?”

 

“And why didn’t you say anything before now?” Sam added, crossing his arms.

 

“Boys,” Ketch’s clipped English accent always bugged Dean, but the condescension he managed to cram into just one word made him want to punch the Brit. “Asmodeus was holding Gabriel prisoner, and using him for his grace. Draining it from him slowly and painfully. It seems that the new king of hell has an archangel grace habit. I have no idea how long Asmodeus was holding him captive, or what else he did to him, but I would hazard a guess that it involved a degree of brutality. As you can see, I was on the receiving end of some of that brutality myself.” He pointed towards the lacerations and bruises on his face, “And as for not saying anything about the matter, I only found out about the archangel before I came here. Isn’t it obvious that I feared for my life, seeing what Prince of Hell could do to an archangel?”

 

Dean wasn’t about to start feeling any sympathy for the British douche; he was more concerned with Gabriel right now. “Yeah, well you probably deserved all of that.”

 

“Don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet? I made good on my word, and I brought you Gabriel. Do I not deserve some appreciation?”

 

“When it took you a spell to actually do it?” Dean asked ironically under his breath, before turning to Cas, who had been silently watching their exchange. “Do you wanna go back in? See what we can do to help Gabriel?”

 

“Yes. We should help him.” Cas was still upset, but he looked slightly calmer now.

 

Returning to the room, they found that Sam and Eileen had managed to get Gabriel up onto the bed, and Sam was carefully removing the stitches from his mouth while Eileen held his hands. Dean winced with sympathy at the sight; despite all the pain he had endured, and witnessed, this was one of the most disturbing things he had ever seen, at least outside of Hell.

 

Dean - and especially Sam - knew how irritating Gabriel could be, but this… no one deserved what Gabriel had been put through. Well, maybe Ketch.

 

No...No, not even him. Dean wouldn’t wish this kind of drawn out torture or torment on anyone.

 

When the last stitch had been removed, everyone in the room looked at Gabriel expectantly, waiting for him to speak. Instead of this, though, he did nothing but stare blankly into space, as if they were not there. It was disconcerting and frustrating, but it seemed that they had all come to a silent agreement not to push him. He clearly needed some time before he would be ready to tell them what he went through.

 

In the meantime, they could take some of his grace, and use it for the spell. But Ketch did say that Asmodeus had been draining his grace. He might not have enough left for a spell. With some hand gestures, Dean managed to let Sam, Eileen, Ketch, and Rowena know that he wanted to talk to them outside. They followed him to the war room, where there was a bowl on the table, holding all of the rift spell ingredients, except archangel grace.

 

“Can we still use Gabriel’s grace for the spell?” Dean directed his question at Ketch.

 

“Well, we won't know until we try, will we?” Ketch replied with an eye roll, as if this was the most obvious answer in the world.

 

“So it might not work. Great,” Dean banged his hand on the table in frustration, jolting Cas as he did. “Sorry, Cas.”

 

“Why don’t you save the pessimism until we fail? I suggest _someone_ -” Ketch pointedly looked at Sam, “talk to the archangel, get him to understand why we need his grace, and we perform the spell tomorrow at dawn.”

 

“Yeah… no. We need to wait until we’re free of this,” Dean held up his hand and pointed at the nothing which was binding him and Cas together. “Then I’ll be able to go through the rift, no problem.”

 

“Or,” Sam said, staring Dean in the eyes. “You and Cas stay here and we go.” Sam gestured between himself and Eileen.

 

“Oh, hell no. Not happening, Sammy. I-”

 

“Dean,” Sam sighed, giving him the _look_ , “We don’t really have the time to sit around and wait for this curse on you and Cas to wear out its welcome. If it were under other circumstances, I would say we would need as many hands on deck as we can get. But you and Cas will be lucky if you don’t trip over each other as soon as you walk through the portal-“

 

“Sam,” Dean grit out through his teeth, “I can’t sit around here and do nothing while you and Eileen go to some other universe. If something happens and you both don’t make it back-”

 

“Then you have Cas,” Sam interrupted softly, “And you’ll figure out how to get us back over here. Together. But you’re sitting this one out.”

 

Dean gave Sam a hard glare before looking away, “I don’t like this, Sam. I don’t like this at all.”

 

Sam’s lips quirked upwards into a smile, “I know you don’t, but get over it.”

 

With that, Sam walked out of the room with Eileen falling in step beside him, leaving Dean gaping like a fish.

 

“Get _over_ it?” Dean muttered to himself as Ketch left the room as well, “Like hell if he’s going to talk that way to me-

 

“Oh, deary, as much as I love a good spat, I believe you do need to get over it,” Rowena interrupted, “Besides, I have things I must tend to if your brother and his lovely lass are leaving by morning. Ingredients to this spell I must procure if you ever hope to get a rift tearing through your bunker in the first place. But you two just relax. I’ll take care of things. It’s the least I can do for my new bunkmates.”

 

Dean already understood Rowena had things to tend to. He appreciated her help. But calling them her bunkmates left a queasy feeling in his stomach and the fact that she disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke was just overly dramatic.

 

Her disappearance also left him alone with Cas.

 

And in all honesty, he didn’t know what to say. The only talking point he could come up with right now was Gabriel, but why would Cas even want to talk to him after Dean had been such an ass to him. Besides, if Cas did want to talk to him, he would have said something by now. He wouldn’t let hours pass without saying more than a few words, and he would have passed Dean the soap in the shower. He sure as hell would have asked Dean if he wanted to watch anything or go down to the library to read and wouldn’t have just given him a vaguely disapproving look when Dean drank a few beers. But none of that came up. Cas seemed too lost in his own thoughts. Maybe he preferred them over Dean’s company. Dean couldn’t blame him. He blamed himself for this crap. Drinking helped him blame himself a little less, at least until the buzz wore off.

 

“Well,” Dean said once it was a little after 10 pm and they were both under the covers, “Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas answered, his voice giving nothing away.

 

At 11 pm, Cas seemed to doze off, something his friend was still doing despite the whole ‘what happens to you, happens to me’ curse wearing off. At 12 am, Dean hadn’t even tried to sleep. At 1 am, he realized if he didn’t talk to someone, he would fucking burst. At 1:12 am, he realized he couldn’t talk to Cas just yet. And at 1:17 am, he realized he really just wanted to talk to his brother.

 

But it was really hard to have a heart to heart or get any personal advice from Sam when he was literally attached to Cas.

 

**Dean: Hey, you up?**

 

It took Sam several minutes to respond, but he pulled through ten minutes later, making Dean feel relieved and nervous all at once.

 

**Sam: I am. What’s going on?**

 

**Dean: Cas has barely said two words to me. I think he’s mad at me.**

 

**Sam: lol**

 

**Dean: stfu it’s not funny**

 

**Sam: It’s not. I was lol-ing ironically because you were a jerk last night and probably deserve a little anger thrown your way.**

 

**Dean: Yeah. I know.**

 

**Sam: The first step is realizing you have a problem**

 

**Dean: what part of stfu do you not understand?**

 

**Sam: Dean, you texted me. Eileen just did a striptease right in front of me and I put that on hold to talk to you.**

 

**Dean: Dude. Overshare. And you don’t even like stripping wtf?**

 

**Sam: I like when she does it. She says hi, btw. And that she’s leaving the room so we can text privately. This better be good.**

 

**Dean: It’s not good. If things were good, I wouldn’t be breaking up your sexy time with Eileen.**

 

**Sam: Just break it down. You texted me for a reason, even though Cas is right there. If it was just about being a dick to him, you would get over yourself and apologize. So something else is probably going on.**

 

**Dean: Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Shit, Sam. I was a dick to him though. I’m embarrassed, I guess.**

 

**Sam: I understand that. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.**

 

Dean’s fingers want to immediately type out a message of denial. But what would his alternative answer be? That he was just being picky for Cas’s sake? That the doctor his friend had been dancing with hadn’t been good enough?

 

It was bullshit. It was all bullshit. Dean was sick of lying to people. He was sick of lying to himself. Maybe his buzz hadn’t completely worn off. Maybe he was just tired of clamming up. Whatever it was, it got him texting out his damn life story practically.

 

**Dean: I was jealous. Sam, I’m bi. I know I said at the club that I was curious about guys in my early 20s, but it wasn’t just some phase like I made it out to be. Maybe it started out as curiosity, since in high school I was with girls and kept convincing myself I was straight. But after you left, I was with so many men that I thought I was gay for almost two years. I figured out I could like both a little later. I had a relationship with a guy for about a year on and off. I would pass through all the time and we did the long distance thing but it didn’t work out so we broke up. Then something bad happened and it fucked me up. I told Dad and ended up coming out to him because he knew something was going on. I don’t think he really understood and he was upset with me about some other stuff but he told me he still loved me and accepted that I liked men and shit. You’d think that would have helped but I was too afraid and just pushed that part of myself down. I don’t know why I never got over it. Seeing Cas being so open about it? I don’t know. I was wishing I could be like that, I guess. I hope you’re not pissed at me for not telling you sooner.**

 

Dean let out a huge breath and, after mulling it over, pressed ‘Send.’ Cat was out of the bag. But he knew Sam well enough to know that he wouldn’t hate him. He wouldn’t disown him or be grossed out. Sam liked Charlie and Max, accepted them for who they were. He apparently was warm and fuzzy enough to make it so Cas felt comfortable enough coming out to him. Sam wouldn’t look at him any differently. Logically, Dean knew that.

 

Except Dean still hadn’t received a message back. There was no ellipsis bubble, no heart emojis or that one that is laughing so hard it’s crying. Nothing. The lack of response made Dean’s stomach sink to the floor and he hid his face into his pillow as quietly as he could in case he screamed or cried, god forbid. That was the last thing he needed, to make Cas think he was an emotional wreck.

 

Nah, let’s face it. Cas already knew he was an emotional wre-

 

The bedroom door swung open, taking Dean out of his poisonous thought process. Before he could say anything to Sam, his younger brother walked over to Dean’s side of the bed, dropped on his knees, and put his arms around Dean tightly.

 

“Would you stop?” Dean murmured, annoyed. Or at least he would have sold the annoyance if the crack in his voice hadn’t betrayed him.

 

“Love you, Dean.”

 

Dean growled but didn’t make a move to pull away, “Eileen has you sappy and happy and touchy as shit. I miss depressed you.”

 

Sam snorted, before pulling back just a little to smile down at Dean, even if his eyes were suspiciously wet.

 

“Stop caressing my hair,” Dean told him, “And don’t you dare cry on me. If you do, I’ll-”

 

“Cry too?” Sam finished.

 

Probably. Yeah, Sam was probably right on that, since his heart was pounding and his cheeks felt tight. But Sam didn’t need to know he was right. Dean had to keep his brother humble. It was part of the job.

 

“Why are you in here?” Dean sighed, “We were texting.”

 

Sam shrugged, bafflingly deciding that this was an invitation to settle down on the floor next to Dean’s bed, “Had to see you. Make sure you were okay. We’re not done with the conversation just because I came in here, by the way. I have questions.”

 

Dean shook his head before slightly turning it towards Cas’s form, “Not now. He...I don’t...There was a reason I texted you, dude. I can’t really have a face to face conversation one to one with you right now.”

 

Sam nodded and Dean thought his brother was finally taking a hint. But instead, Sam pulled out his phone, the screen illuminating his face as he unlocked it, then began to text.

 

Dean rolled his eyes when he heard the ding right next to his head, right on the edge of the mattress by his pillow.

 

**Sam: You okay?**

 

Dean rolled his eyes, glanced at a waiting Sam (who can potentially become the bitchiest form of Sam), then texted back.

 

**Dean: Fuck if I know. I just came out to you. Said more about it than I have ever said to anyone since Dad. Feel like I’m about to have a panic attack-**

 

“You need a paper bag?” Sam asked, concerned, leaning over to look at his reply.

 

Dean snatched the phone closer to his chest and pushed Sam back on his ass, “Would you wait until I finish sending the damn message? And be quiet!”

 

**Dean: Fuck if I know. I just came out to you. Said more about it than I have ever said to anyone since Dad. Feel like I’m about to have a panic attack. I guess it was time though. Figured you already got clued in last night so I should make it official.**

 

**Sam: Don’t get upset, but I kind of thought you might be due to the way you are with some guys.**

 

Dean didn’t want to ask the question, he really didn’t. But his curiosity won the best of him and he was typing it out before he knew it.

 

**Dean: Like who?**

 

**Sam: Dr. Sexy, for one.**

 

**Dean: Fictional character, so he only half counts.**

 

**Sam: Gunner Lawless.**

 

**Dean: He was a man’s man! A celebrity...sort of. You liked him too.**

 

**Sam: Not nearly as much as you did. And not in the same way.**

 

**Dean: Fine. Whatever. I’ll give you that one.**

 

**Sam: Aaron**

 

**Dean: He hit on me first!**

 

**Sam: Max?**

 

**Dean: Hot but too young for me.**

 

**Sam: Crowley?**

 

Dean winced before sighing and typing out the truth.

 

**Dean: We possibly did some things. While I was a demon. Like had sex with male triplets. I don’t really count the time when I was a demon though. I mean, I was me but not me. Even then though, I kept the hookups with guys to a select few, even if there were more guys than there had been in the last 15 years otherwise.**

 

**Sam: You keep your same-sex hookups to a select few and you choose for one of those hookups to include Crowley?**

 

**Dean: Demon me made horrible and fucked up decisions! You met him!**

 

**Sam: Alright. I will say out of all the demons you could have slept with, Crowley was the most tolerable.**

 

**Dean: RIP Crowley**

 

**Sam: Benny?**

 

He tried not to think of Benny too much. The pang he felt in his heart at just the mention of his old friend’s name took him by surprise pretty much every time. When Dean allowed himself to think of him, he missed him. A lot.

 

**Sam: Wait, were you guys...shit, I’m sorry.**

 

Dean turned his head towards Sam, shook it, then swallowed before texting his brother back.

 

**Dean: We hooked up in Purgatory a few times. When I couldn’t find Cas. We were high from the hunts down there but we were both lonely and only had each other. Pretty straightforward combination. Might have tried to make things happen up here if I hadn’t been fucked up over my own shit and over Cas. I really cared about him. When Cas kept disappearing and acting strange, I thought about maybe asking Benny. Seeing if he wanted more. Thought it might just be easier to go live on his damn boat and forget about hunting for a while. But I never did tell him what I was thinking. We never talked about how we had sex. On top of him being a vampire, a relationship would have been doomed from the start. But it didn’t matter. I already knew I was pretty much in love with Cas and I think he knew I was too.**

 

He typed it without even having to think about it. Without having to make excuses or backpedal. But when he realized what he actually wrote in the last sentence, it made him pause - unsure of whether or not to delete the last. Other than a few other things from his past, this, his feelings for Cas, were the one thing affecting him in the here and now that he was keeping a secret. It was only a matter of texts before Sam texted Cas’ name. So he just added a period to the sentence and pressed send.

 

He couldn’t help but watch Sam read what he just sent him, waiting for a reaction of some type. Sam didn’t give him a major one. All he did was turn his head to meet Dean’s eyes, give him a small, sad smile and a pat on the hand, before texting back.

 

**Sam: Garth?**

 

**Dean: The one who got away.**

 

Sam let out a snort and Dean rolled his eyes, only to glare at his younger brother when he couldn’t stop laughing.

 

“Seriously, shut up,” Dean hissed, “Cas is asleep.”

 

“I’m not,” Cas answered suddenly, making Dean startle, “Sam woke me up as soon as he came into the room. Does he sit in here every night and I’m just noticing him now or is this a special circumstance?”

 

Dean would be more annoyed by the sarcastic question if he weren’t so relieved to hear more than a few words at a time leave Cas’s mouth. But before he could answer the guy, Sam got over his giggle fest, cleared his throat, and sat up.

 

“Special circumstance. Usually Dean comes into my room to hang out with me since, until recently, I was the one with the TV.”

 

“Right,” Cas murmured, “I apologize for it being in here for so long. If you and Dean would like to watch something, I understand.”

 

“Nah,” Sam shrugged, “Dean just had to tell me something, so we got to talking.”

 

“Oh,” Cas said, before turning his head to squint at the both of them, “I didn’t hear your voices. I just...I don’t know, I assumed you were basking in each other’s presence.”

 

“Uh…” Sam started, before shaking his head, “No. That’s not what we were...no.”

 

“We were texting back and forth, dude,” Dean said, rolling his eyes, “It was a private conversation. A Broment.”

 

“Dean, that’s not a word,” Sam reminded him. But fuck Sam. Broment was a word.

 

“I see,” Cas said, sounding a little sad, “Because you didn’t want me to overhear.”

 

Shit. Dean winced as Sam shook his head in denial.

 

“It’s not like that. Sometimes Dean and I just have to...I don’t know, talk it out. We rarely do, by the way, but Dean had a breakthrough tonight. I’m very proud of him.”

 

“Dude, shut up,” Dean gritted out through his teeth.

 

“You’ll find out soon,” Sam continued, giving Dean a commanding look, “We aren’t trying to keep anything from you and we’re not talking bad about you. We wouldn’t do that. You’re family. When Dean catches you up to speed, you’ll understand why he just needed to sort out his thoughts first. Right, Dean?”

 

Dean closed his eyes as he felt Cas’ on him, studying him closely and making him want to sink through the bed, “Yeah. Sure.”

 

“Great,” Sam said, grinning so brightly that Dean was pretty sure he could see it through the dark, “Sorry for waking you up, Cas. I will see you both in the morning before Eileen and I head out. Get some rest.”

 

Dean watched his brother go back through his bedroom door before shutting it, leaving him and Cas alone, saying nothing once more.

 

Before Dean could dwell on it much, his phone pinged again and he picked it up to look at the text.

 

**Sam: Conversation still isn’t over btw. I have more questions but I will wait until Eileen and I are back. Also, if you don’t tell him by the time I’m back, I will never have another heart to heart with you again.**

 

**Dean: Dude, that sounds amazing.**

 

**Sam: I’m serious, Dean. Talk to him about how you feel.**

 

**Dean: Sam, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.**

 

**Sam: You are such an idiot. Seriously. I don’t understand how someone so smart can be so dumb. Tell Cas you love him. Please.**

 

Dean sighed and, despite the knots in his stomach, typed out two words.

 

**Dean: We’ll see.**

 

* * *

 

 

“I hope this is enough grace,” Sam said grimly, “Gabriel and I have a history, but it was horrible extracting this from him once. I don’t think I can go back and extract more.”

 

It was just before dawn and Sam and Eileen already had backpacks and supplies put together so that they could leave as soon as Rowena performed the spell. Dean was nervous as hell for the two of them and didn’t know if he could deal with the idea of something happening to them. But he was a little bit more calm than yesterday. He wasn’t stomping his feet and throwing a fit, nor was he taking Sam by the hair and dragging him into a locked room. That was probably progress.

 

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Dean said as he watched Rowena prepare to add it to the rest of the ingredients in the bowl.

 

“Okay, let’s do this,” Sam said, squeezing Eileen’s hand tightly.

 

Ketch appeared as Rowena was about to pour the grace into the bowl. Interestingly enough, he also had a backpack and was dressed as if he was about to go into battle. “I’m coming with you. As I said, Asmodeus will be hunting me to the ends of the Earth, so it’s better if I’m not on this Earth.”

 

“Uh… no. Are you crazy? You’re not coming with us,” Sam said, horrified.

 

“Let him come,” Eileen said to Sam. “If he thinks he’s safer with us - with me - than with Asmodeus, he should come with us.”

 

A shudder ran down Dean’s spine at Eileen’s response. She hadn’t forgiven Ketch at all. This could be an insanely terrible idea, and Ketch could wind up regretting it. Or dead.

 

“I will take my chances, and hopefully demonstrate to you that I can be an asset.”

 

“Just don’t turn your back on her,” Dean muttered under his breath, so only Cas could hear.

 

“Right, are you ready then?” Rowena was poised with the vial. “Remember, you only have twenty four hours before the rift closes.”

 

Before anyone else could speak, Dean strode over to his brother and pulled him into a lingering hug, Cas close behind and following suit. “Don’t get dead, you hear me? Just come back in one piece. And you… you look after him.” He hugged Eileen briefly, and kissed her gently on the head. Turning to Ketch then, he added “Yeah, um…you too. I guess.”

 

“What?” Ketch asked, his face blank, “No hug and kiss for me? No matter. Hopefully, we run into your mother sooner rather than later.”

 

Dean clenched his fists and growled, “Sam, get him out of my face before I punch his.”

 

Sam nodded and roughly yanked Ketch back by the shoulder, “Got it.”

 

Dean was still glaring at Ketch when Cas took hold of his hand in a comforting gesture. Dean found he craved the touch. Despite the tension from the last couple of days, he squeezed Cas’ hand in a silent thank you as Rowena performed the spell.

 

When the rift appeared in the centre of the room, Dean got a sinking feeling. He knew he couldn’t stop Sam, but he was going to be worrying the whole time he was away. Dean thought that standing aside while his brother was off risking his life was the hardest thing he would ever have to do.

 

They stepped through the rift one at a time; Sam, then Eileen, and finally Ketch.

 

“We have to trust them,” said Cas, as he watched Dean closely.

 

“I know. It’s just hard, letting him go like that.”

 

“You did not let him go, Dean. He told you he was going,” Cas said, sounding exasperated.

 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry, Cas. I… I need to-”

 

No. This wasn’t right. Dean needed to do this properly.

 

Turning to Rowena, Dean cleared his throat, “You can look after Gabriel, right? We have to… Cas, do you wanna go somewhere? Get outta here for a few hours?”

 

“Where do you want to go?” Cas asked warily. “I do not want to go to another club.”

 

“No… no. God, no.” Dean could understand why Cas was worried that he might be wanting a repeat performance of last night. We can go for a drive, have a… picnic?” Ideally, under other circumstances and with more confidence than he could ever hope for, Dean would plan something like this as a surprise, but that was kind of impossible with Cas always right there beside him. He could see Rowena grinning at them out the corner of his eye, so before she said something to ruin the moment he grabbed Cas’s hand and headed towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”

 

“Have fun, boys.” Rowena called after them, “I’ll call if there’s any news.”

 

They stopped by the kitchen to pick up some food - a couple of hastily made pb&j sandwiches, leftover pie, a bag of potato chips, and a few beers - then set off in no particular direction. Getting away from the bunker for a bit was proving to be a great idea; the further away they got, the less stressed Dean felt about Sam and Eileen in the AU. It wasn’t that he stopped caring, but sitting next to that rift, waiting, would have driven him insane.

 

About two hours out, Dean pulled off the main road, and headed towards an overlook. The scenery was stunning out here and Dean had been drawn in by the view a few times before when he had driven by. As they laid their picnic out on the ground, Dean could tell that Cas was impressed. The sound of crickets, and a stream running nearby, created the perfect backdrop for this idyllic setting.

 

“This is much more enjoyable than the club,” Cas said, contentedly.

 

“Yeah, about that,” Dean said. “I’m sorry, man. I was such a jerk there and at the motel. I have no excuse.”

 

“Things have certainly been tense between us since that night,” Cas mused, “But I’m not really sure what happened. What made you so… unhappy?”

 

“I wasn’t exactly a good wingman, was I?” Dean shook his head in shame, and ignored the question behind what Cas said. “I promised I would help you find the love of your life, and I will.” Dean felt a pit forming in his stomach thinking about it, but carried on, whispering, “I will.”

 

Cas said nothing, but tilted his head quizzically and stared at Dean, who looked away and focused on the view. He picked at a blade of grass and a bead of sweat broke out on his brow as he thought about telling Cas how he really felt.

 

“Cas, I… I wanna tell you something,” he started nervously, still unable to look at his friend. “I’ve… been with guys before. It’s been a while since I hooked up with them regularly but...fuck, I’ve been with more than enough of them to know what I am.”

 

Dean ran a hand down his face before risking a glance at Cas, “I’m uh...I’m bisexual. I’ve been bisexual for a long time.”

 

“Oh.” Cas said plainly. “Uh-”

 

“I know it’s a shock, and I know I shoulda told you before. And I’m sorry that it took me so long, but I… when I was younger, I dropped my guard. The wrong people found out, used what I liked...w-what I _did_...Man, it was rough. So much shit went down because I thought with my dick and wasn’t careful enough and...I got really hurt because of it. So I just put that part of my life to one side. Tried to forget about it.”

 

Cas gave him a surprisingly soft look and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, “Dean, I was already aware about some of your past. That you’ve been with men and at least used to identify as something other than straight. I rebuilt you. But I’m...I’m aware that sexuality can be fluid. I suppose it was a transgression on my part that I assumed that you were no longer attracted to men. You hadn’t expressed or shown interest in any men we’ve been around for the duration of our friendship. I deemed it unimportant anyway. Sexual orientation is something I am indifferent to. But I apologize for assuming either way. Know that I accept you and care for you as my dearest friend.”

 

Dean felt his heart ache in his chest at the word ‘friend’ as he forced himself to smile at Cas, “Yeah. Guess I’m a pretty good actor then, right? Faking the straight thing for so long? There’s a universe where I’m on a TV show. I don’t know if that guy’s got the chops though. All I know is that he played on a soap opera before playing...well, me. That’s not saying much.”

 

Cas looked like he was biting back a laugh at that and Dean didn’t know how he felt about it at-

 

“Jensen Ackles has a lot cut out for him playing Dean Winchester. I don’t think there’s anyone as complex, interesting, and frustrating as you are. So if he’s doing a decent job at reflecting that within his portrayal, then he’s probably quite the talent.”

 

Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas and leaned back, “I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult.”

 

Castiel bumped Dean’s shoulder with his own, “Consider it an observation. I appreciate you telling me. Coming out to me. Your honesty is important to me. So thank you.”

 

Dean turned to Cas, and saw a look of earnestness on his face. “You… you’re definitely not mad?”

 

“No, why would I be mad? I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation. We discussed this-”

 

“Yeah, I know that,” Dean interrupted, holding up a hand, “But that’s not what I meant. I meant that I was pretending that I wasn’t… didn’t have...”

 

Shit, why was this so hard? Dean had flirted with - seduced - a lot of people, male and female, but none of them were his best friend. He’d spent more time with Cas than almost anyone else in his entire life, except for Sam, his father, and maybe Bobby. Cas had come to mean more to him than he was able to say.

 

“Didn’t have what? What were you pretending that you didn’t have?” Cas was gazing at him now, searching his face for answers.

 

“Feelings,” Dean spoke so quietly that he thought Cas might not have heard him.

 

“Feelings? What kind of feelings?” Cas’s voice had become hoarse and a little hesitant, as the air around them suddenly became alive with anticipation.

 

“You… you know. I want-” Dean was aware of just how close they were sitting, and how they had turned to face each other. This was the ideal opportunity to make a move, wasn’t it? If Dean couldn’t get his head out of his ass and tell Cas how he felt now, then he was the biggest chicken shit ever and didn’t deserve him.

 

“Dean?” Cas was still waiting for Dean to answer him properly, and in that moment he thought ‘fuck it’. He would show Cas what he meant.

 

Dean lifted his hand to Cas’s cheek, and stroked it softly with his thumb, as he leaned forward until their lips were almost touching. With his breathing shallow and his heart almost thumping out of his chest, Dean went to close the final distance between them. But right before their lips could touch, a noise from a few feet away made him look up. A flash of black eyes told him that it was a demon. Nope, scratch that - it was four demons.

 

What the actual fuck? Where the hell had they come from?

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel was certain that Dean had been about to kiss him, so if he wasn’t already in the mood to smite these demons, he certainly was now. Suddenly he was full of fury and righteous anger, and he sensed that Dean was too. Luckily, they were always prepared to defend themselves against attack - even on a romantic picnic.

 

“Dean Winchester?” a female demon cooed as she ran towards them. “Did we break up your date with your pet? Is the infamous Castiel finally getting an upgrade in status? I suppose that’s arguable though. Becoming a Siamese twin isn’t my idea of a great time, Winchester or not.”

 

A male demon joined in with the taunting then, “You sure you want an angel? I hear you’ve… _opened up_ to a couple of demons in the past. Alastair’s stories about what he did to you alone made me realize what a whore you could be for us-”

 

Castiel didn’t let him finish the sentence, feeling a spark of rage at the words as he pulled his fist back and punched the demon square in the nose, causing it to groan. Cas could sense a demon running towards Dean. Immediately, Cas bent over slightly and taking Dean’s weight onto his back, giving his friend the space and leverage to kick two demons in the gut, before flipping Dean over to the front in order to quickly turn around, grab his blade from his coat, and kill the fourth demon. Dean kept his foot on the punched demon’s chest, holding him down as they both said the required exorcism. Castiel bent down to check the pulses of the three vessels. One had unfortunately died from previous wounds, but two of them looked like they would be fine as soon as they woke up.

 

“Shit,” Dean breathed out, then let out a laugh, “And Sam thought we would be tripping over ourselves. You literally flipped me over your shoulders, dude. Made me feel like the hot cheerleader I always wanted to be. Plus that fight was over in like two minutes. We could kick that AU’s ass.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes in exasperation, but quirked his lips upward, “In retrospect, I suppose we do work well enough together to make a trip to a dangerous alternate universe work.”

 

For some reason, Castiel’s comment made Dean blush. For some other reason altogether, Castiel felt immense enjoyment over that accomplishment.

 

“Oh man, the fucking picnic’s ruined,” Dean said, changing the subject as he kicked at the ground in frustration, looking at the mess. The beer bottles were scattered, and the contents of one was spilled onto the grass. The sandwiches and potato chips were crushed, and the pie had a huge footprint in it.

 

“Even the pie. I can’t have anything nice. Not even for ten fucking minutes.”

 

Castiel gave Dean a sympathetic look, then turned towards the mess, “We should clean this up and get back to the bunker, I suppose. I enjoyed the picnic, Dean. Less demons would have been even better, but what can you do?”

 

Dean laughed at that, and Castiel smiled. Dean’s laugh just might be one of the most beautiful sounds in existence, and Castiel had accomplished in getting him to do that too.

 

A few minutes later they were back in the Impala, heading for home, with a mess of broken food in the trunk. Both of them were feeling a little dejected, and if Cas saw another demon anytime soon they would feel his wrath.

 

And they went a full two hours without seeing one, since the roads were basically empty. The next one they did see happened to be right in the bunker and was Asmodeus himself. Before they could fall into a losing battle with him, exchange words, or even yell at him for binding them together with cursed handcuffs, Gabriel destroyed him with Rowena by his side.

 

“That was…” Dean started, looking down at the scene in what looked to be disappointment, “Anticlimactic?”

 

“What matters is that the Wicked Witch is dead. And this time, I don’t mean me,” Rowena scoffed as Gabriel began to walk towards the stairs. Before he could say anything, she grabbed him by the shoulder to turn him around and direct him towards the bedrooms, “Oh, no you don’t, lad. You need to do some healing. I see that look in your eyes and I’m not buying that macho and tormented archangel bollocks. You have a family now. Are they insufferable? Absolutely. But we’re here for each other and that’s what matters…”

 

Castiel felt himself watching the scene with confusion as Dean turned to look at him, appearing troubled, and said, “Why does she think she lives here now? She can’t just move in...can she?”

 

Castiel shrugged and felt his confusion turn into amusement, “I think Rowena does whatever she wants to do. Despite our history, I like her.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Dean coughed, then began to pull him down the stairs, “You have a weird taste in friends.”

 

“Don’t I know it?” Castiel murmured, but followed Dean’s lead.

 

* * *

 

 

“I can hear your heartbeat.” Dean yawned; resting his head on Cas’s chest was surprisingly easy and comfortable, “I like it.”

 

Dean felt a slight rumble as Castiel let out a chuckle, “I’m glad it meets your standards.”

 

Dean rubbed his cheek against the fabric of Cas’s shirt, seeming to hesitate before continuing, “You won’t go anywhere when we’re free of this spell, will you? You’re gonna stay?”

 

Castiel bent his head to look down at his friend’s face, feeling a pang of heartache at the tension in Dean’s face and his tightly closed eyes, “I will stay here as long as you want me to. I can’t promise that I will never have to go somewhere on my own. When I do go somewhere, it isn’t because I don’t want to be here. I would actually much rather be here. At my home...with you.

 

“Good.” Dean sighed, and snuggled his head into Cas’s chest a bit more. “‘M gonna make sure you never want to leave.”

 

Castiel liked being this close to Dean. It wasn’t an intimacy he was quite used to, but it was one he welcomed, especially when it came to the person who brought out so many strong feelings within him. Almost unconsciously, he began to stroke Dean’s hair, hoping to bring the man some comfort as well. He knew once Dean fell asleep. His breathing evening out and soft snores brought a smile to his face as he continued to lie there, gently playing with the hairs on the base of Dean’s scalp. But even though he just wanted to feel the peace in this moment forever, Castiel slowly, but surely fell into his own slumber as well.

 

And the funny thing was that he dreamed. Dreams filled with Dean’s smiles and laughter, the two of them together walking across beaches with their toes digging in the sand. It had been a long time since Cas had a dream he could remember. The only ones he had before had been nightmares. He could now see the appeal in sleeping if it meant his mind could take him to such beautiful places for a few moments.

 

Castiel was almost disappointed when he was pulled out of the dream suddenly. Opening his eyes in confusion, he was greeted with the sight of Dean staring at him and felt the other man’s hand resting lightly on his cheek. A huge smile spread over Dean’s face.

 

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

 

“Good morning, Dean. Is it dawn? Should we go and check the rift?”

 

“Nah, it’s only 2 am. I just wanted to… to tell you something.”

 

“What?”

 

“C’mere, and I’ll tell you.”

 

As Dean slowly started to lean down, Castiel understood what was happening and began to lift his head to meet Dean’s lips. Dean’s lips were soft and gentle, cushioned perfectly against his own. Their kiss started out chaste and it was beautiful, but Castiel decided he wanted more. Snaking his hand around the back of Dean’s neck, he pulled him in closer to deepen the kiss. Dean’s hands found their way to Cas’s back and they were wrapped around each other, their kiss becoming wetter, a little more playful, more passionate - perfect.

 

 

It was bliss.

 

“Damn, Cas,” Dean said, breathing against his mouth as he broke off the kiss. “That was really something.”

 

“Can we keep on doing it?” Castiel asked, reaching for Dean again. “I’d rather not stop.”

 

“Woah, down boy,” Dean teased, “As much as I wanna stay in this bed and keep kissing you until I pass out from lack of oxygen, we still have other things we need to attend to.”

 

“Yes, of course. The rift, and this spell,” Castiel sighed glumly, despite being anxious to have Sam and Eileen back in the bunker, hopefully with Jack and Mary, “But after they return. What I would like to do is take you back up here, push you onto the bed-”

 

“Cas!” Dean choked out, leaning his head down to press his forehead against Castiel’s chest, “Damn. If I had known you had some detailed fantasies about me, I would have been kissing you a lot sooner. But hell yeah. You bet your ass you will.”

 

Dean gave Cas a quick peck on the lips before climbing off the bed, and started towards the door. “I’m just gonna hit the bathroom, then we should check if anything is happening in the war room.”

 

Castiel laid on the bed and watched Dean walk out of the room, a wave of happiness washing over him. He could feel deep inside him that something momentous had just happened. He was just getting off the bed when Dean appeared back in the doorway.

 

“Holy crap, Cas… look,” Dean lifted his hand and waved it around with a look of wonder on his face.

 

It took a few moments before Cas caught onto what Dean was showing him but when he did, he was astounded. “Dean, we’re free! We’re not attached anymore.”

 

“Yeah, no shit!” Dean exclaimed, his smile was so wide that Castiel could see every little eye crinkle.

 

“I can go wherever I want again,” Castiel said, studying his hands to make sure it wasn’t a more unfortunate dream.

 

Dean’s face fell and Castiel could see the moment his friend - or whatever Dean might be to him now - began to shut down.

 

“I meant to the bathroom,” Castiel offered softly, “Or to the library while you are sleeping. I meant what I said, Dean. Unless it is an absolute necessity, I won’t go far for a long period of time.”

 

Dean stared at him apprehensively for a moment, then shrugged before running back to the bed, bouncing down upon it, then bringing Castiel back in for another kiss. They couldn’t quite part immediately, especially since Dean just had to pepper at least a few more kisses against Castiel’s mouth and jaw.

 

Castiel bent his head to the side, giving Dean’s lips better access, “Is this what you would call a chick flick moment?”

 

“As if,” Dean scoffed, briefly pressing his lips against Castiel’s once more before rubbing their noses together. “But don’t tell Sammy, just in case.”

 

“I won’t be able to tell Sammy anything if you never stop kissing me. Or maybe...maybe you can put my mouth to use on another part of your body.”

 

Dean blinked at Castiel in surprise. “Cas, you dark horse. I can’t believe you just-”

 

Castiel gave Dean a mischievous look and Dean’s features formed into a fond expression, “You’re really something, you know that?”

 

* * *

 

 

Dean grabbed hold of Castiel’s hand and they made their way to the empty war room. There was no sign of Rowena, but the rift was still in place.

 

“I hope they make it back okay. They have to, right?” Dean looked at Cas with pleading eyes.

 

“We still have almost three hours. But yes, I believe they will be fine. Sam, Eileen, and _Ketch_ ,” Cas didn’t seem to be able to say Ketch’s name without sounding annoyed, “are expert hunters.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, they are.” Dean put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands, “So I guess we just wait.”

 

“Yes. Should we, I don’t know…listen to some music while we wait?”

 

Dean smiled and squeezed Cas’s hand gently, “Sure, music would be good.”

 

“Just a moment. I will get my mixtape.”

 

Dean watched Cas with amusement as the angel turned around, “You must’ve worn that thing out now. I’m surprised it still works.”

 

“I take good care of it,” Cas said, turning back around thoughtfully, “It means a lot to me and I love it dearly. Probably because of the person who made it.”

 

Before Dean could answer, the rift started to glow brighter. They watched in wonder as Jack stepped through and into the room.

 

“Castiel!” Jack rushed over to him and hugged him tightly, before greeting Dean in a similar fashion.

 

“Hey, kid,” Dean said, holding Jack tight as he felt a twinge in his chest, “Where’s Mom? Where are Sam, Eileen, and Ketch?”

 

“They’re coming,” Jack assured him, looking at the rift hopefully, “And they’re not the only ones.”

 

Dean looked at Jack in confusion and took a step back, “What do you mean, they’re not the only ones?”

 

Jack smiled and bit his lip, “They agreed to come back. People from the camp Mary and I were helping. They agreed to come here to be safe and figure out a way to defeat Michael.”

 

Dean looked over Jack’s shoulder as people began to file into the bunker one by one in a single line. Some of their faces belonged to strangers, but he couldn’t help but grin disbelievingly as Bobby stepped through, only to be followed by Charlie. But the line didn’t seem to be stopping.

 

“Jack, how many people are you guys bringing back from the camp?” Dean asked, his eyes widening as he looked around the bunker.

 

Jack met Dean’s eyes and looked as proud as he had ever seen him.

 

“All of them.”

 

* * *

 

 

Just like Asmodeus’s death, closing the rift had been surprisingly uneventful. But that was probably a good thing. With the huge shift in his and Cas’ relationship and the fact that there were over thirty people in the bunker, Dean had his fill of surprises for the day. Luckily, they were all good ones.

 

Both he and Cas made themselves scarce for a bit as soon as he got a look at his brother and Eileen to make sure they were alright. Dean figured these were people who hadn’t eaten a good meal in who knows how long, so he and Cas took it upon themselves to get some major grocery shopping in and take the bags back to the kitchen in order to make an awesome feast for them.

 

If they snuck a makeout session or two in while the kitchen was empty, then so be it.

 

It wasn’t until after dinner that Cas walked away from him to go speak to his mother about something. Despite being attached to Cas for a month, it didn’t feel as weird as he thought it would to not have him flush against his side. But Dean thought that might be due to the tender hug Cas was giving his mother. It somehow made it connect in his head that Cas was now even more a part of his family than ever before.

 

“Guys? What the…you’re not attached anymore? The spell is broken? How…I mean how?”

 

Dean briefly turned to meet Sam’s wide eyes, shrugged, then continued watching Cas.

 

“Well, I took Cas to another club and he found the love of his life. True love’s first kiss, Sammy. You would have loved it. The guy is around here somewhere.”

 

Sam looked totally done with Dean’s shit until he seemed to realize that Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off Cas at all. And if Sam asked, Dean wouldn’t even bother denying it. There was something about being open and clearing the air that made things better. They sure as hell made things better with Cas.

 

Sam grinned and swung an arm around Dean’s shoulder, “This is...This is great. We have Mom and Jack back. We’re sort of safe, for the first time in a while. And God, Dean. I’m so happy for you. And damn, I’m happy for me too. I’m with Eileen. You’re with Cas after all this time...and apparently Rowena’s with Gabriel?”

 

Dean turned to see the disheveled witch and archangel come into the war room from the hallway, trying and failing to look nonchalant.

 

“Well, that was fast,” Dean said, mildly disturbed, “And unexpected. But good for them. I guess.”

 

“I don’t know whether to be happy Gabriel’s feeling better this quickly or terrified of what kind of power couple they’re going to be,” Sam said, shaking his head in bewilderment.

 

Although Dean was in full agreement with Sam, he couldn’t help feel hopeful for them when Cas came back over to sit right beside him. Dean took Cas’ hand, the hand that he had literally become so attached to, and pressed a kiss against it.

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Dean said, biting back a smile as he stared into Cas’ eyes, “Maybe they’ll bring out the best in each other.”


End file.
